


I May Never Be Whole Again

by Antimatics



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Child Abuse, Criminal Barry Allen, Eating Disorders, Fighting, Foster Care, Genius Barry Allen, Gore, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Piercings, Prison, Scars, Smoking, Tattoos, The Author Regrets Nothing, Thief Barry Allen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 34,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8304649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antimatics/pseuds/Antimatics
Summary: Barry goes into foster care after his mom's death and ends up being an entirely different person then he could have been if he'd had a loving home. When Barry gets arrested and sent to Iron Heights, he makes the most unlikely friends anyone would've thought possible.In which Barry is a closed-off genius who doesn't always use his powers for good, Len is his usual sarcastic self, and Lisa finally makes Barry into the sex god she always saw the potential for in him.





	1. In the Beginning

            Barry Allen stared blankly out the window of the car, shaking hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. He was nervous, but doing everything he could not to show it. This wasn’t the time to be weak. He couldn’t afford to be weak again, not after he just stood there while the man in yellow killed his mom. Barry was all on his own now, he knew that the people from social services didn’t _really_ care about him. And neither did Joe. Or Iris for that matter. If they cared, they would’ve stopped him from being taken away. They would have taken him in just like they promised the day after his father, Henry’s, trial.

            But they didn’t. They never even came to say goodbye. The only person who came for him was an overweight lady dressed in a flowery blouse (Which looked dreadfully over-cheerful and a size too small). She had told him she were going to take him to his ‘new home’. A foster home.

            The car slowed to a stop in front of a pristine suburban home. The lawn was freshly cut, the tulips beneath the window were flawless, and on the front porch stood a man and a woman who looked to be in their thirties. They were the picture of a perfect couple, the man was tall and well-built, and the woman was petite and delicate-looking.

            The social worker (who also had on too much makeup) turned off the engine and walked around to pull open Barry’s door. She gave him a wide smile (she had lipstick on her teeth), “Come say hello to your new parents!” She cheered.

            Barry’s eyes darkened and his jaw clenched in barely-contained rage. How dare she suggest that he needed new parents, his original ones were just fine. He didn’t say anything though, for fear of upsetting her and the people he was being forced to live with. He didn’t want them to reject him like Joe and Iris already had.

            ***

            The couple, Clarissa and Patrick Birch, were painfully normal. They couldn’t have kids themselves, so they had taken in strays like Barry. There was one other kid in the house right now, a teenage boy whose name Barry had honestly forgotten to pay attention to, he didn’t see him much anyway though.

            One night though, after about a month living with the Birch’s, Barry was washing up after dinner and the other boy cornered him in the kitchen. Clarissa or Patrick weren’t home yet from their date night.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around to face the sneering boy, “Hey freak, I bet you and your dad really got a kick out of stabbing your mom to death huh? I bet you were in on it too, what he did to her. I’ll bet you liked it, and I bet you liked lying to the cops about it too.” Barry was shoved hard back against the granite countertop and knew that there was going to be bruises on his back later. “Nobody wants freaks like you around here. My dad was a cop before a murderer like _your_ dad put a knife between his ribs.”

A punch to his stomach knocked the air from Barry’s lungs, making him gasp for breath while the other boy swung his fist straight into Barry’s face, causing a shooting pain in his nose and cheek. _It was probably broken._ Barry thought distantly while another three blows rained down on his body.

Barry looked up at the older boy, one of his eyes almost swollen shut and blood from his nose and mouth staining his teeth red, “P-please, why are you-“ Another punch knocked the air right back out of him though and the other boy let Barry crumple to the floor and walked away.

 _Spencer._ Barry thought as he struggled to breath, _his name was Spencer._

***

When his foster ‘parents’ came home they found him sitting on the couch holding an icepack to his face. He had wiped all of the blood off of himself but the shirt he had had on was irreparably stained a dark crimson red and his nose was definitely broke from how it jutted to the side.

Clarissa screamed when she saw him and rushed over to him. He assumed she was going to try and help him or something, but when she reached him she just forced him up onto his feet, glaring, “Barry Allen! You’ll get blood all over my couch! Do you even know how hard leather is to clean?” She fumed, tugging him away from her precious living room and back into the kitchen, Patrick following after them.

Barry broke into a fit of coughs at the sudden movement, blood staining his lips once again. He sat down in one of the dining chairs heavily, “S-sorry I just-“ Barry started to explain.

Patrick interrupted him though, arms crossed over his chest, “Barry, you know we do not tolerate fighting in this household. I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can have you here any longer. You should go and pack your things.”

Tears welled, unbidden, in Barry’s eyes, “W-what? I didn’t- I mean. I never fought anyone! It was Spencer! He attacked me I swear.” He started to shake, “Please don’t get rid of me…”

The Birch’s turned to look at Spencer, who stood in the doorway watching them, “Is this true Spence?” Patrick asked dubiously.

The boy looked straight into Barry’s tear-filled eyes, “No sir, I would never do something like that to anybody.”


	2. Origin Story Plus Lisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a glimpse of Barry's pass and his meeting Lisa as a teenager. Short chapter, but an important one.

Barry bounced around several different homes in the next few years. All of them eventually sending him back because ‘he was too much to handle.’

“He’s too quiet and he never smiles. It’s creepy.” Was one reason.

“The little thief stole from my purse!” Was another.

“He lit my garage on fire.”                   

“He keeps coming home all bruised and bloody after school. I didn’t sign up for this.”

“The little fuck broke my arm after I asked him to dust the living room!”

            And so on.

            Home number seven was a home for ‘troubled teens’. Barry was fourteen today, and his birthday was being spent unpacking his clothes and books in a tiny white-washed room that could probably pass as a storage closet. There was a hole in the wall above the bed where another boy’s fist had gone through it that was semi-patched up with a few strips of duct-tape. The cot shook and groaned when he sat down on it, springs digging into his ass, and half of the drawers in the tiny dresser were broken or missing. It was like a prison cell.

            Barry had a black eye, a split lip, and a weird rattling sound when he breathed from his last home. The man whose arm he’d broken had definitely hit back. No, it wasn’t just because of a few missed chores, unless you counted the middle-aged man’s attempts at getting Barry into his bed as chores. They might as well have been chores, considering how often Barry failed to escape his foster ‘father’, but he’d rather not think about that ever again. It was just another moment Barry was too weak to fight against someone stronger than him. If he could help it, he’d never be too weak to fight again.

            So really, this home was a pretty good birthday present. Even if the whole place smelled like bleach and the other boy’s he’d seen when he had arrived looked like they wanted to stab him and hide his body in the walls, he’d had worse.

            Okay, maybe he didn’t feel that way when three bigger boys had cornered him in the bathroom and started kicking the shit out of him. The leader of the little gang was spitting insults at him but Barry was too preoccupied protecting his head and vital organs to take stock of them.

            Suddenly the pain stopped and Barry heard the sound of fists connecting with flesh. Slowly, Barry uncurled himself and looked up at his rescuer, surprised to see a slender girl standing above him with her hand held out for him to take.

            Taking it and standing up, Barry looked into the mysterious girl’s eyes, “Th-thank you. How… how did you even do that?” He asked incredulously, looking around at the unconscious forms of his assailants.

            The girl shrugged casually, “My big brother taught me a thing or two about dealing with idiots like them.” She held out a hand for Barry to shake, “Lisa Snart. What’s your name?”

***

            For the three months Barry managed to stay at the home, Lisa and he became fast friends. She kept anyone from bothering him or stealing his homework while he was working on it and taught him everything she knew about self-defense, and he taught her everything he knew about whatever subject she was interested in at the time. From chemistry to astronomy, literature to calculus. He was pretty sure she wasn’t listening, but it was nice to ramble on about everything he knew.

            But then she wasn’t there to protect him anymore, she wasn’t there to laugh when he tripped a bully down the stairs or be there to talk to when a nightmare about his mother’s death woke him up. She turned eighteen and high-tailed it out of there. Not that Barry blamed her of course, he would leave too if he could. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. No, Barry hadn’t felt this abandoned and upset for years. It was nothing like his mother’s death of course, but it felt like the day after his father’s trial all over again. When he realized Joe and Iris weren’t coming to get him.

            Barry was brooding over his steamed carrots (honestly just vaguely orange-grey mush) and chicken that night at dinner when one of the newer, younger boys at the home tried pick-pocketing him. He caught the boy’s wrist in a vice-like grip and twisted as hard as he could, eye cold and still staring straight ahead. The boy screeched in pain and sank to the floor as his elbow dislocated and the bones in his forearm ground together. Barry used the momentum of the falling boy to spin and punch him in the face. Or at least that’s what he meant to do, but he still had the fork in that hand and ended up raking it across the pick-pockets left eye.

            Barry had to leave again. The boy had been blinded in that eye and the damage had been so great that he’d had to have it replaced with a glass eye because the doctors hadn’t had enough eye left to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really liking this story so far. I've written about nine chapters and it's going pretty well. The response this has gotten has been awesome, thank you! Please leave a comment and tell me what you think, fact checking and tips are always welcome. Barry's a little OC in this fic, but I'm trying to stay true to the other characters here.


	3. Bury the Hatchet, Bury the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe comes back just a bit too late, Barry is a sneaky bastard, Iris is slightly clueless.

            Somehow, even though it went terribly, Barry avoided arrest the first time he robbed a jewelry store. It was small, family-owned, and the security was blessedly lacking. The cops were literally right own his tail when he ducked into an alley and somehow managed to lose them. He got away with over three thousand dollars-worth of jewelry and an adrenaline rush like he’d never felt before. He was sixteen. The police never figured out who did it.

            The people at his new home never fed the kids there, they just took their checks from the government and ignored the dirty, hungry children that filled their home. Barry had enough money to feed and clothe himself and the other children (all much younger than him) for the next few weeks. When the money ran out, it was easy enough to get more.

            The feeling of getting away with something so _bad_ was addicting, and sometimes Barry would just steal shit for the hell of it. It got easier every time.

***

            A few months later Joe somehow got custody of him. Probably some bullshit about Barry ‘just needing a safe space’ to keep him from acting up and something about Iris being ‘Barry’s best friend’ even though they hadn’t spoken in years. Whatever it was, social services totally bought it and let him take Barry.

            The night before, Barry had thrown his meager belongings into his old duffel bag and had lain awake through the entire night until it was time for him to go. Now, as he stood on the West’s front porch, ready to knock, his found his hands shaking like they used to when he first got into the system.

            After knocking, it took about twenty seconds for the door to swing open and Barry to be greeted with the smiling face of Joe West. “Hey son how are you doing?” Joe asked, clapping a hand on Barry’s shoulder amicably.

            Barry’s whole body tensed up at the touch but he didn’t say anything about it, “I’m alright sir, just a bit confused about why I’m here.”

            Joe led him inside and into the living room, looking over the kid who used to come to his house every day after school to hang out with Iris. The impish grin and chubby cheeks that’d been so familiar to him had been replaced with an expressionless mask made up of dark circles under his eyes, angular cheekbones – the kind of bone structure that makes you wonder if the kid ate enough – and a slightly crooked nose, “C’mon Bear, you know you can call me Joe. Iris will be so excited to see you again.”

            Barry looked around the room, it hadn’t changed much since he had last visited before his mom’s death. Just a few more pictures here and there and a new television. _Nothing really worth taking._ “With all due respect, I haven’t seen Iris in over five years _sir._ ”

            The smile on Joe’s face faded a bit and he sat down on the couch with a sigh, gesturing for Barry to do the same. “I went to visit you dad Bear.” Joe said quietly, “He said you’ve started visiting less often and have started showing up with more bruises. I couldn’t let you stay where you were Barry. I told him I’d take care of you. I promised.”

            Barry’s façade broke like a damn and he leaned toward Joe, eyes starting to water and jaw muscles twitching, “Then where were you all those years Joe? Huh? You were gonna pick me up after dad’s trial and take me home with you! You promised me and all I got was a series of homes full of people who don’t trust me and would never love me! I’ve been covered in bruises from the moment my dad was thrown in jail. I don’t need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

            Joe’s cheeks were wet with silent tears as he listened to Barry talk. He leaned forward and placed a hand on the kid’s knee, “I’m so sorry Barry. I truly am. I made a mistake. I knew how much you liked Iris, I knew about your crush on her and I didn’t want you to move in because she’s my little girl and I wanted to protect her. I should have let you stay. Is there anything I can do to make you forgive me?”

            Like a switch had been flipped, Barry’s face became void of any emotion and he looked deep into Joe’s eyes, “You’re telling me I’ve been through hell all these years because of the stupid fucking crush I had on your daughter? No Joe, I don’t think I can forgive you for that. Not ever. But I’ll stay, for my dad, because he never abandoned me like you did even though he’s been stuck in Iron Heights.”

            Joe nodded tiredly and let Barry storm up the stairs to him new room, trusting he’d be able to find his way without too much hassle. He just sat on the couch, mulling over his past decisions, filled with regret.

            ***

            Iris came home from one of her friend’s houses just before dinner, which was Chinese takeout. She threw her bag on the couch and gave her dad a hug, “Hey dad, is Barry here yet?” She looked around as if expecting him to appear in the room before her eyes.

            Something sad flickered through Joe’s eyes before he answered, “Yeah, he’s just getting settled into his room upstairs, will you go tell him dinner is ready? He’d probably like to see you.”

            She grinned and nodded, sprinting up the stairs to see her old friend. She crept up quietly to the door, intent on sneaking up on him. She froze when she got to the doorframe though, staring at the man who had his back turned to her and was hunched over his desk reading something. The last time she’d seen him he’d been a dorky little eleven year old but the man in front of her was all height and lean muscle.

            Iris knocked on the doorframe gently, “Hey Bear, what’s up? Dad says dinner is ready.”

            Barry fixed a fake smile onto his face and turned around to see his old friend, “Wow, hey Iris, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”

            She smiled softly and came into the room to stand by his desk, “Yeah no kidding, what’re you reading there?” She looked down at the textbook full of what she thought was maybe biology but she wasn’t really sure.

            Barry closed the book and stood up, walking with her down the stairs, “I was reading a bit about biomechanics. Interesting stuff.” He shrugged, hands tucked into his pockets.

            Joe let out a low whistle as they came into the room and sat down to eat, “Biomechanics? That sounds pretty advanced for a high schooler. Though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve always loved science huh? Speaking of which, we should make sure you’re all signed up for school on Monday.” Barry’s last home had been in Starling City after all, so he wasn’t enrolled in Central City High anymore.

            Barry’s blunt nails dug into the palms of his hands under the table. _As if Joe knew anything about him anymore._ But he faked another dorky smile regardless, “Didn’t my dad tell you when you saw him? I graduated high school last year. I got a full ride to Central City University.”

            Joe and Iris gaped at him, “You graduated at fifteen? Oh you’re _so_ helping me with my homework.” Iris squealed, awe obvious in her voice. Barry allowed himself a little pride at that.

            Joe grinned proudly at him, and against his better judgement, Barry felt a flutter of happiness in his chest, not used to seeing that look on anyone’s face since Lisa had shown him how to pick people’s pockets. “What’re you majoring in Bear?” Joe asked.

            Barry grinned, “Forensics. I want to help my dad ya know?” _And I want to be able to get away with anything else that might catch my fancy._

***

            At the age of twenty, Barry got away with murder. Nobody important, just a few night guards at this one gallery that just had the _prettiest_ abstract painting on display. It wasn’t a particularly popular gallery, or a particularly famous painting, but when Barry saw the flier he just _had to_ go and see it for himself. And steal it of course.

            Nobody caught him either, because he was the best CSI the Central City Police had ever had, and he was the one assigned to the case the next morning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Please feel free to leave me a comment telling me what you think, it makes my day!


	4. Thunderstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry gets a little spring in his step.

            An accomplished thief, CSI, and part-time murderer, Barry Allen never expected to get struck by lightning. Of course, nobody _expects_ to get struck by lightning, but still.

            The Particle Accelerator being turned on that night was a big deal, and he’d told Joe and Iris that he was going to see it happen. Iris had offered to come with him, but Barry had convinced her that she’d find it boring and promised they’d ‘hang out’ sometime later that week. It was exhausting for Barry to be in her presence for any long period of time, and Barry much preferred his own company and that of the occasional stranger in his bed.

‘Friends’ were a nuisance he hadn’t seen the need for since Lisa, who had actually brought valuable skills and an understanding of his less than acceptable moral standards to the table. But regardless, being a loner was frowned upon in polite society, and always being alone could draw attention to Barry that he just couldn’t afford.

            Eobard Thawne, perhaps better known as the current Doctor Harrison Wells, sat at his bedside the night he was transferred into Star Labs, watching the boy while he slept dreamlessly. This was Barry Allen, who he’d waited fifteen years to meet again. Oh, he’d kept his eye on this one. He knew all about the kid’s twisted morals. Eobard hadn’t planned for the kid to be thrown into the system, he’d expected that cop to take him in, but in the end it didn’t really matter. Just as long as Barry would cooperate and get him home.

            Barry was in a coma for nine months, and when he woke up, he was surrounded by strangers with Lady Gaga playing in the background. What the fuck.

            A man who looked a bit younger than him rushed to his side, “Hey you’re awake! One sec I’ll go get Caitlin and Doctor Wells.” He bounced off again to who knows where.

            Barry rolled his eyes and sat up, looking down at his bare chest, sweatpants, and at all of the equipment around him and figuring out where he was. Star Labs. What was he doing here and not in a hospital? Also, not that he was complaining, but when did he get abs?

            A voice was heard down the hall, approaching quickly, “Cisco, why is Lady Gaga still playing?”

            “I told you, he likes it, it was on his FaceBook page. I thought it would help bring him out of the coma and hey! What happened? Oh yeah! Coma patient? No longer in a coma.”

            The man came back, and woman in a lab coat trailing after him, rolling her eyes but rushing up to see Barry when he eyes landed on him, sitting on the edge of his bed casually. “Hey Barry! It’s so good to see you awake! I’m Caitlin, I’ve been taking care of you here at Star Labs. This is Cisco Ramon. He helps.” She gestured to the man from earlier, who lightly shoved her arm.

            Before Barry could respond, another man entered the room in a wheelchair. He looked at Barry with what looked like kind, fatherly eyes, but there was a stony look in their depths that only Barry could see. It was similar to the look Barry sometimes found in his own eyes.

            “Hello Barry, my name is Harrison Wells. It’s good to see you awake.”

            Barry pretended to be flustered, sticking his hand out between them and standing up shakily, “Doctor Wells! It’s so great to meet you! I’m a big fan of your work.”

            Just as Doctor Wells was about to respond, ‘Caitlin’ cut them off and pushed Barry back towards the bed, “You have to lay down Barry, you just woke up from a coma for God’s sake!”

            Barry immediately sat back up, “Coma? For how long?”

            “Nine months. Everyone has been very worried about you. Your family visits every other day or so. Whenever they can I think.” Caitlin smiled kindly at him and rested her hand on his shoulder.

            Barry instinctively flinched away from the contact, a scowl flitting across his face before being forced into an innocently confused expression, “What family? Also, nine months? Fuck. Not that I’m complaining, but what am I doing here and not at the hospital?”

            Doctor Wells answered him, “The Wests couldn’t afford to pay the hospital for your twenty four hour care. You kept going into cardiac arrest and showed very little signs of improvement, so we here at Star Labs offered to take you in and give you the care you needed. We told the Wests that we would be observing you and collecting data in exchange for your care, and they readily agreed.”

            Wells was probably going to continue, but Barry couldn’t help but interrupt, “Hold on. Joe let me become a lab rat so he wouldn’t have to foot my medical bills? Should’ve seen that one coming." He scoffed, “What’d you guys need with some unconscious guy anyway?”

            Doctor Wells gave him an impatient look before continuing on, “That’s not the real reason we wanted you here Barry. You see, something went wrong with the Particle Accelerator and that explosion affected you down to a cellular level. You never went into cardiac arrest Barry. Your heart was beating too fast for the monitor to even pick it up.”

***                                                                                                      

            And so accomplished thief, CSI, and part-time murderer Barry Allen became the Flash. The man who saved Central City on a regular basis and had a morally-dubious basement full of meta-humans.

            His hero-duties did not stop him from fazing through walls to steal precious jewels or straight into bank vaults, but Caitlin and Cisco didn’t need to know about that bit. Reprogramming the tracker in his suit to show him in a different location at the time of his robberies was a piece of cake. And hey, he saved the city from random life-threatening attacks on a daily basis. A few missing masterpieces and priceless gems was a small price to pay in his opinion.

            But stealing such heavily-guarded treasures was way too simple with super powers, and most of the time Barry tried not to use them unless it was an emergency. It was more fun and challenging this way. Also, if anyone saw the Flash running from the scene of a crime he’d committed it just might hurt his ‘hero’ reputation.

            So you’d think Barry wouldn’t be surprised when he was caught and arrested the morning after stealing a painting valued over twelve million dollars the night before. He’d only killed like one guard, the other three were hospitalized. He hadn’t thought he’d left a trace. But a different CSI was assigned to his case the next day and found several partial prints on the fallen guard’s gun that matched one Barry Allen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spent my whole day rewriting these next six chapters of this story. Thank you to all who commented and pointed out some gaps I had left. I've tried my best to fix them. Thanks for reading, please leave a comment telling me what you think!


	5. Jailbait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenny!!!!! ...Also prison but hey you can't win 'em all.

            Barry walked into work that morning a bit late, coffee in one hand and rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the other. He’d caught maybe two hours of sleep last night, and he needed at least four to be a decent human being the next day. But it was worth it. After all, a suit as nice (maybe nicer) as the one he wore as the Flash was being discretely made for him over in Europe by one of the best light-weight body armor designers in the world. They didn’t come cheap, and Barry was getting tired of replacing the clothing he wore during heists when they inevitably caught on fire. It wasn’t as if he could wear his _Flash_ suit when he went out.

            Okay, he wore it when he ran through grocery stores to steal food to eat during fights (Cisco’s little calorie bars tasted like shit), but nothing bigger than that.

            But as soon as he walked through the doors of the precinct that morning everyone’s eyes were on him. Two officers, _Officers Lorry and Nealson, some of Joe’s friends,_ walked towards him, scowling. “Bartholomew Allen, you are under arrest for the murder of Carl Smith and the assault of Earl Patchman, Walter Blatt, and John Harwell with a deadly weapon. As well as the theft of several priceless items on display at the Levaseurr Art Gallery last night. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law.”

            Before Barry could even process that completely, his hands were forced behind his back and he met Joe’s eyes from across the room, panicked eyes meeting disappointed, tired ones.

***                                                                       

            Barry pled innocent, claiming that he was being framed. And he was sure he was being framed, because Barry had only taken one thing and hadn’t actually touched the fallen guard’s gun that night. He’d used his own to shoot down the four security guards.

            It didn’t matter though, once a badge went bad, there was nothing you could do to earn the trust of the police back. He wasn’t just a criminal in their eyes, but a traitor as well. That’s how he ended up in Block A of Iron Heights Prison with the serial rapists, murderers, and the type of criminals that the police had needed the Flash to even capture.

            If he hadn’t worked for the police he wouldn’t be in this situation. He would have been in one of the lower security blocks with less dangerous criminals, but since he had personally betrayed each and every person he had worked with, here he was.

            He was led down the hall to his cell, inmates catcalling and making lewd gestures as they passed by. The guard behind him shoved him roughly, making him stumble slightly and turn to scowl over his shoulder. The guard laughed harshly, “Looks like being a piece of shit runs in your family Allen. How proud your dad will be to see his son on the same side of the bars as he is.”

            Barry couldn’t have been held accountable for his actions just then, and he lunged at the guard, hands still bound behind his back. He head-butted the guard straight in the face, hearing a satisfying _crunch_ and feeling a warm spurt of blood coat his face as the man’s nose broke.

            The guard stumbled away from him with a screech, clutching at his face, the other two guards in the hall easily grabbed Barry8 by the shoulders and pulled him back, throwing him to the ground like a ragdoll and beating him into unconsciousness with their billyclubs.

***

            Leonard Snart sat on the thin mattress of his cot, leaned back against the wall of his cell, reading some book from the meager library Iron Heights offered. The book was stained and bloated from water damage and countless years of usage. Sure a few of the pages were missing, but Len just filled in any blanks with his imagination. There was nothing better to do in this hellhole anyways.

            A guard banged on the bars of his cell with his club, “Back against the wall Snart, we’ve got your new cellmate here.” As Len set down his book and backed against the back wall of the small room, a pair of guards dragged an unconscious boy into the cell and tossed him on the empty cot across from Leonard’s. One of the guard’s noses was crushed against his face and blood still poured from it. The guards left, one taking a final jab at the kid’s stomach before locking the cell door behind them.

            Len crept away from the wall and over to the prone form of his new cellmate. The kid had blood on his forehead from what Len assumed was his attacking that guard, and a dark bruise starting to form around his eye socket and cheekbone from their retaliation. Numerous bruises covered the exposed skin of the kid’s arms in ugly purple blotches and presumably continued on beneath the plain white outfit that all newbies wore. The bruises sat over a plethora of scars, old and new, that covered nearly every inch of his exposed skin. Scars he didn’t want anyone to see were all too familiar to Len and he decided not to ask about them for the time being. He took in the kid’s young face with a hint of confusion. The kid didn’t really look the type to be in Block A with his delicate features and slender figure. This place would eat him alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your guy's comments give me life. Also a lot of extra work to do, so fuck you and thank you for that. There are more flaws in this story than I care to admit and still a surprising amount of support nonetheless. Thank you for reading, and please leave me a comment letting me know what you think!


	6. Pretty in Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry's just too cute for his own good, Leonard offers him a deal.

            Barry woke up few hours later with his entire body throbbing in pain. A groan escaped his lips as his struggled to sit up, muscles stiff from being in the awkward position the guards had thrown him into earlier. Luckily neither of his eyes were swollen shut (yet) and Barry carefully tested out each of his limbs and fingers, checking for any possible breaks. Wouldn’t want them to heal improperly again. Re-breaking strong new bones just after they’d finished healing was pure torture.

He hadn’t been able to eat enough in the past three days or so, first from being busy with his heist, and then from being in court and a holding cell, so his body wasn’t bothering to heal him properly. It was probably for the best though, because how else would he explain his disappearing injuries while under constant surveillance? For the same reason, Barry couldn’t just faze through the walls and leave. How would he explain that one?

            What a fucking stupid mistake, letting another CSI take one of his cases because he was running late. Sure, Barry hadn’t actually made the mistake he was convicted for, but he was behind bars nonetheless.

            Someone cleared their throat from across the room, making Barry jump and turn to find the source of the sound. His eyes widened almost comically when they landed on his new cellmate. Leonard Snart. Captain Fucking Cold.

            “Hey _roomie,_ it’s good to see you’ve decided to join the land of the living. What did a kid with a face like yours do to get put in a place like this?” Snart asked in his usual drawling voice, looking over at Barry over the top of his book with the sort of casualness only he could achieve.

            Barry, still frozen in shock, blinked slowly before processing the question and responding, “Uh… armed robbery and murder. Allegedly.”

            Snart let out a low whistle and set his book aside, folding his hands in his lap and looking at Barry with a cold, calculated gaze, “Were you a cop? I’ve only ever seen the guards treat one of their own the way they treated you, especially if you pled innocent. Not to mention you ended up here.” He held out his hands in a vague gesture to the cell around them, “They must really hate you if you ended up in Block A with me as a roommate.”

            Barry cleared his throat and wrung his hands, eyes darting around the cell, “No… not a cop. I was CSI. Just as bad I guess.” He looked back at the other man leaning forward to hold his hand out towards him, “My name’s Barry, by the way. Barry Allen.” Better to pretend he didn’t recognize Cold from anywhere other than the news and cases.

            Snart took his hand, smirking, “Leonard Snart. A pleasure to meet you. You wouldn’t happen to be related to Henry Allen would you?”

            He froze, eyes going even wider than before, “You’ve met my dad?” His dad was in Block B, Barry hadn’t realized that inmates were mixed at some point in the day. Fuck, what was Barry going to say to his dad when he inevitably saw him here? Henry would be so ashamed of him. Barry swallowed hard, forcing the prickling sensation in his eyes away before they could water. No more weakness. Especially not in here.

            His cellmate nodded, “Yeah, he’s a nice guy. Funny thing is, I believe _he’s_ innocent. You? Not so much.”

            An awkward laugh escaped Barry’s throat, “Me? What do you mean?”

            Leonard raised an eyebrow skeptically, “Maybe you look innocent to other people kid, but I know that look you have in your eye. I see it in the mirror all the time.”

***

            About an hour later, there was a loud buzzing noise and the cell door rolled open. Snart stood up, stretching like a cat and turning to look at Barry once he reached the entrance to the cell. Barry had been laying on his bed, staring blankly at the faint water stain on the white ceiling above his head. “C’mon kid. It’s time for dinner. If you don’t get off your ass and go now the guards will do it for you.”

            It took a moment for Barry to respond, eyes flickering over to meet Leonard’s, “Yeah,” He said quietly, voice void of all emotion and an expressionless mask on his face, “Coming.” He stiffly swung his leg over the side of the cot and stood up, following his cellmate to the cafeteria.

            Barry slowed when they actually reached it though, suddenly feeling that familiar terror he used to feel when going to a new home as a kid. The other inmates laughed and shouted after him when he passed, making comments about his ass and lips that took Barry back to home number six all over again. Back to the month that Barry had tried so desperately to erase from his memory.

            If Leonard noticed the slight shaking in Barry’s hands, he said nothing just scowled at the men they passed, placing a hand on Barry’s shoulder and steering him roughly over to the line. After they got their trays of so called ‘food’, Leonard started walking over to where Mick sat in their little corner across the room. But after a few steps he realized Barry wasn’t following him, just standing there staring at the crowd of prisoners quietly.

            He walked back and grabbed Barry’s shoulder again, making him walk ahead of him, “C’mon kid, you can sit with us over here.”

            Barry looked like a scared rabbit as he sat down across from Mick Rory, who didn’t do anything more than glance at Snart with a raised eyebrow and continue to eat, watching Barry with a calculating look in his eye, “I – I don’t think sitting with Heatwave and Captain Cold is going to help my case about being innocent.”

            Snart scoffed, sitting down beside his roommate, “Nothing’s gonna help your case kid, they hate you for what you did. Anyways, it’s either sit here or sit with any of those guys who are looking at you like a piece of meat.”

            Barry paled, shoving his shaking hands beneath the table and out of sight, cutting crescent shaped cuts into his palm with his blunt nails in an attempt to stop the involuntary flood of images that rushed into his head. Memories of clammy hands moving over his body and hot breath in his ear. He shook those thoughts away and nodded, “Y-yeah you’re right. But what’s gonna keep them from… getting me when you aren’t around?”

            Blue eyes met hazel and Leonard smirked, “They wouldn’t dare touch what they thought was mine.” He brought a hand up to rest gently on Barry’s shoulder, winking coyly.

            “Y-yours?” Barry couldn’t but stammer, a flush creeping up his neck.

            “Relax kid, I know it’s not the most dignified role, but people thinking you’re someone like me’s bitch is a lot safer than being alone and looking the way you look in this place.”

***

            Barry stared silently at his food for the next ten minutes while Rory and Snart talked to each other, mulling Snart’s words over in his head. Mick paused after a while, looking over at their silent companion, “Aren’t you going to eat kid?”

            Barry wasn’t eating for three reasons. One, if he ate his healing factor would kick in and that would suck to try and explain. Two, the thought of like ninety-five percent of the room wanting to rape him kind of put him off of his appetite. And three, the cuts in his hands had only gotten worse and were steadily dripping blood onto the floor beneath the table. He didn’t really want to draw attention to that right now.

            He shrugged, “Not really hungry.” To take the attention off of his eating habits, he turned to Leonard, “Can I ask you something?” He continued after Len nodded, “Why are you doing this for me?”

            Leonard smirked, “I figure it’s best to have as many people indebted to me as possible. I’m sure you’ll return the favor someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving the response from this story! Sorry in advance, no prison sex in the near future or roomie romances. Regardless, thank you for reading! Please leave me a comment letting me know what you think! Love you bitches


	7. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of people are excited to see Barry

            Barry got his first visitors the next day. Cisco and Caitlin sat in the same chairs he used to when he would visit his dad and Barry was dragged out by two guards like some rabid animal. It was surreal, being on this side of the glass for a change.

            They’d let him change into the same grey outfits the rest of the inmates wore. He’d been grateful to find that he had the choice to wear a long sleeved shirt beneath the short sleeved uniform, comfortably covering the scars that spread across the entirety of his body from prying eyes. They’d never healed even with his powers, his body not seeing the closed wounds as something in need of repair.

 Barry had almost been too tired to get up when the guards had come to retrieve him earlier, weak from a lack of food and lack of sleep. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Snart expected any payment for his protection just yet. But the ideas of what he’d be asked to do still kept him up, a sick mixture of dread and reluctant anticipation stirring in his stomach. After all, it wasn’t like Snart was bad to look at… sleeping with your so called nemesis in _prison_ just seemed like one of those things he _shouldn’t_ do.

            Barry sat down across from his teammates tiredly, picking up the phone and placing it against his ear, “…Hey guys.”

            Caitlin sobbed quietly when she saw him, covering her mouth with her free hand with tears welling in her eyes. Cisco spoke first, “Barry! How are you holding up man?”

            A familiar fake smile, this one with a tinge of real sadness, fixed itself onto Barry’s lips, “Could be better. Could be worse though. I haven’t been eating anything though. I’m trying to keep my body from healing itself too quickly.”

            Caitlin spoke then, “You can’t starve yourself Barry! You’ll be in a caloric deficit of ten thousand calories a day if you don’t eat. You’ll end up killing yourself within the week.” She thought for a moment, “I can probably work with Doctor Wells to create some sort of drug that will keep your body from healing any visible injuries, but it will still allow you to heal internal injuries. I can probably get it to you in a few days.”

            Barry smiled exhaustedly, his teammates completely believed that he’d been set up and were willing to help him until this was sorted out. If only they knew. “Thanks Caitlin. That’d be great. It’s so good to see you guys. It’s a whole ‘nother world in here.”

            Cisco matched his sad smile, “It’s good to see you too bro. We’re working on finding out who framed you. You’ll be out in no time. What’s it like in there anyways?”

            He scratched the back of his head with his free hand. The cuts from yesterday having scabbed over during the night and pulling the surrounding skin uncomfortably. “Honestly? It’s horrible. Everywhere I go people are looking at me like some sort of meal waiting to be eaten. You’ll never believe who’s protecting me. Leonard Snart.”

            Cisco made a choking sound, “Snart? As in Captain _Cold?_ He’s in there with you?”

            Barry rolled his eyes at his friend’s idiocy, “Yes Cisco. I’m in Block A. Maximum Security. Snart’s my roommate.”

            Cisco looked like someone had just told him that the apocalypse had started, mouthing the word ‘ _roommate?_ ’ To himself while Caitlin seemed to pull herself together faster, “Does he know?” She asked fearfully.

            “That I’m his arch nemesis? No, I don’t think he’s caught onto that one just yet.” Barry responded wryly, internally rolling his eyes.

            The guard watching Barry cleared his throat, “Five minutes inmate. It’s nearly time to go out into the yard.”

Barry nodded his understanding, turning back to the pair on the other side of the glass, “I have to go soon. I’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“Barry,” Caitlin called out just before he hung up the phone, “Be careful alright? Especially around Snart, you don’t know what he could want from you.”

Barry nodded and said his goodbyes. _I have a pretty good idea of what he’ll want from me actually._

***                                                                 

Barry stayed close to Len’s side as they entered the prison yard. Mick followed behind them menacingly, scowling at anyone who looked their way and growling at anyone who got too close. It was an effective system. Nobody bothered them as they made their way over to the metal bleachers on one side of the yard.

He glanced around nervously as they walked, keeping an eye out for his dad in the crowd of inmates exiting Block B. He didn’t want his dad to see him here, but it was inevitable and the guards had almost definitely already told Henry about his son’s incarceration.

After about ten minutes of the trio sitting on the bleachers, Barry listening to the pair talking quietly, content with his position on the edge of the bench between Leonard’s body and the chain-link fence, they were approached. Henry Allen was making his way up the bleachers towards them, a sad smile on his kind face. Barry had seen too many sad smiles directed his way lately.

Mick and Len stopped talking as his dad got closer. Barry, much to his annoyance, found his hands shaking again.

“Hey Bear.” Henry said softly, stopping a few rows down in front of his son.

Barry slowly looked up to meet his dad’s eyes, “Hey dad…”

There was a pause, and the both Allen’s were moving towards each other simultaneously to meet in a hard embrace. Henry clapped a hand on Barry’s back, tears in his eyes while Barry was too overwhelmed to even show emotion. He hadn’t hugged his dad in over fifteen years. It was almost worth being here. Almost.

Henry pulled away from him, hands on each of his son’s shoulders as he looked over his son’s bruised face sadly, “I know you’re innocent. You’ll get out of here.”

 _Just like you did?_ Barry wanted to say, but held his tongue. It hurt, knowing his dad wholeheartedly believed he was innocent when he wasn’t. And it hurt, knowing that he was more likely to get out of prison then his innocent father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been able to write much lately (I have eleven chapters done) so thank you for reading this and please leave me some comments to motivate me and give me ideas for the future or just to tell me what you think! Love you guys!


	8. Bruises and Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry takes time to get closer to his new buddies.

He visited with his dad for the rest of their time outside. Henry kept giving unsure looks over Barry’s shoulder where Rory and Snart sat, but they ignored his looks and Henry didn’t say anything to his son about it.

Three days later, at midnight, Barry used the last of his strength to faze through the walls of the prison and meet Caitlin and Cisco a few blocks away.

As soon as he showed up, Caitlin threw her arms around his torso and sobbed against his chest. Barry remained stock still, trying not to flinch away from her. “It’s so good to see you Barry!”

Barry patted her on the back and stepped out of her grasp, slightly unsteady from exerting himself so much to escape, “It’s good to see you guys too, but I need to hurry before Cold wakes up and notices I’m gone.”

Cisco popped out of the back of the van, brandishing a syringe like it was a weapon, “Now we aren’t sure what the side effects of this are, but you should be able to look like you’ve had the shit beaten out of you without any internal damage and you should be able to use all of your other powers. The good thing about it is you only need the one dose and then we have another drug back at Star labs that will make you heal normally again.”

Barry shrugged, slightly apprehensive at having an untested drug in his system, “Okay… let’s do this then.”

The needle itself didn’t really hurt, but as the drug made its way through his veins, it _itched._ All of the internal damage starving and getting beat up by the guards on a near daily basis caused was healing itself. Cisco gave Barry a few of his special calorie bars (the ones that taste like shit) and as soon as the food entered his body Barry felt better. It was like he had been freed from some sort of invisible chain and yellow bolts of lightning danced delicately across his skin and through his eyes as the Speed Force came back to him entirely.

He gave his teammates a grin, the high of having his powers back making him uncharacteristically giddy, “Thanks guys… this is awesome.”

Cisco returned his smile slightly unsteadily, “We have to get you out of there Barry, people are starting to realize the Flash is missing. If any metahumans realize that you aren’t there to stop them anymore there will be chaos.”

***

Thankfully, Snart didn’t notice that he’d ever left that night, and was silently pleased to see the kid eat the next day at breakfast for the first time since he’d arrived at Iron Heights.

Two months passed and Barry had slowly gotten more and more comfortable around the two Rogues. And they’d warmed up to him. Snart (“You can call me Len kid, we’re on the same side here.” _And wasn’t that a weird thought._ )  was pleased to have someone around that could keep of a steady stream of witty banter, and after Barry told Mick about how he’d once set one of his foster family’s garage on fire, the pyro had instantly held a soft spot for him. He showed his affection for Barry by providing a steady stream of cigarettes to the kid, which was a nice gesture in its own way.

Leonard pretended not to notice just how scarred the kid was when they caught glimpses of each other in the showers, and Barry never said anything about the one’s on Len’s own body. Any of the inmates who said anything to the kid about it swiftly ended up in the infirmary by either Len’s hands or Mick’s. And when Barry had climbed into Len’s bed one night crying quietly, Len didn’t mention it. He later found out that it was the anniversary of Barry’s mom’s death.

The cigarettes didn’t affect Barry really, but there must have been some sort of placebo calming effect because Barry found himself hooked. Maybe he just liked having something to do with his hands other than scratch the skin off of them for a change.

Len found himself getting more and more attached to the kid (“I’m twenty six, I’m not a _kid_ Len!”)  as time went on. Against his better judgement, he found himself laid awake at night, eyes tracing the lithe silhouette of his sleeping cellmate in the dim lighting. If anyone asked, he’d vehemently claim that he was just wary about sleeping in the same room as a near stranger, but Len knew that wasn’t it. Not when hazel eyes with their hidden coldness haunted his dreams.

Mick and Leonard both agreed that Barry could end up being useful as one of the Rogues if he’d agree to it. The kid was a CSI and could correct their mistakes before they even made them while they planned their heists, not to mention his genius level IQ and violent tendencies. It was like he was meant to be one of them.

It was good for Barry to see his dad again too, to really spend some time with him, even if they were surrounded by barbed wire and constantly watched by stone-faced guards who looked for any reason to beat up Barry they could find.

            Joe never visited, not one single time since Barry was incarcerated. So much for ‘being like a son to him’ as Joe used to tell him often. Iris tried once, but as soon as she’d seen Barry, nose freshly broken and set from a visit from the guards earlier that morning, she’d let out a sob and ran out of the room. Ten years of calling him family again, abandoned so easily as soon as he stepped out of line.

One night, during dinner, Mick and Len told him about their plan to escape, and, seeing as his case was going nowhere towards freeing him legally and he would probably be stuck here forever otherwise, he agreed to go with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I didn't update yesterday! I haven't been able to get to a computer and write (My sister is visiting me from New York) but I'll try my best. I can't promise anything like daily updates right now but I'll try my best. Once this week is over everything should go back to normal. Thank you all for reading and the supportive comments you leave for me to wake up to every morning! Please do me a favor and leave a comment telling me what you think so far!


	9. Vacation's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The break out.

Two days later they made their escape. It was planned meticulously by Snart right down to the second. Lisa was their getaway driver and was primed to shut down the power to their cell block in two hundred and twelve seconds at precisely two fifteen a.m., during the shift change. Mardon had already procured their guns from the evidence locker and he and Rathaway were going to be meeting them outside of the loading-bay doors with their weapons and to help if necessary.

Once the power shut off they would have one minute and thirty-six seconds before the backup generators came online and relocked the cell doors. Luckily, they unlocked silently and needed to be rolled open by hand. With any luck, none of the other inmates would realize they were open and would remain asleep.

_Before lights out earlier that night, Len had turned to Barry, who was laying on his cot, staring at the water stain on the ceiling. He held out a small object to his cellmate, “Here, take this. In case it doesn’t go according to plan. It’s not much but it’s the best I could get.”_

_Barry took the object, a razor blade melted into the handle of a plastic tooth brush. He offered Len a smile, “Thanks. Here’s hoping I won’t need to use it.”_

Two hundred and twelve seconds later, Len tested the door and was silently pleased to find it rolling open without any resistance. He smirked over his shoulder at Barry and together they crept out into the hallway, making their way to Mick’s cell a few doors down from theirs.

They got the door open easily but when Mick slipped out to meet them a voice stopped them in their tracks, “I could scream… tell the guards you’re escaping you know.”

Mick’s cellmate got up off of the bed and walked up to the door, smirking at the trio, “Unless you’d like to take me with you.” He let his eyes drag slowly up and down Barry’s body, licking his lips, “I mean, if your little plaything can go surely one more passenger is more than welcome.” Mick had told them about the man before, he was a serial child rapist and murderer, given two life sentences to serve. There was no way he’d be getting out of here unless he escaped.

Leonard looked at the man with disgust, then glanced at the door at the end of the hall they were supposed to be going through right now. “We only have thirty one seconds before the power comes online.” He told his partners quietly.

Just as Mick was about to knock his cellmate out, Barry beat him to it. A wave of disgust and nausea at the man’s words and look filled him and before he realized what was happening, he had reached out and slit the man’s throat with the makeshift knife Len had pressed into his hands earlier that night ‘in case of emergencies’. A crimson spray of blood covered Barry from head to toe.

            Shock was the last emotion on the rapist’s face before he fell to his knees, hands reaching for his throat as his dark lifeblood spilled onto the concrete floor. A sick gurgling sound passed through his lips as blood filled his lungs and his life slipped away.

            It all happened quickly, Mick and Len staring at him with a mixture of shock, horror, and pride in their eyes. Before they could say anything though, Barry tugged them towards the door at the end of the hall. “We’ve got to go!”

            They made it to the van with moments to spare, the clatter of guards in their riot gear thundering down the hall behind them. Evidently, someone had found the rapist’s body after the shift change.

            The back doors of the plain black van were thrown open wide just outside of the open loading bay doors. Without a moment of hesitation, Barry dove into the van right after Mick and Leonard did, Mark Mardon of all people offering him a hand to help him in. With a roar of the engine, they peeled out of there, alarms starting to go off in the prison behind them.

*******

            They drove for about five minutes in silence, Len and Mick having their respective signature weapons handed back to the by Mark and Barry staring out the back window of the van, watching Iron Heights recede into the distance, watching his _father_ recede into the distance. Unaware of Hartley’s incredulous gaze to his left. _I never even said goodbye…_

            It was Mardon who broke the silence, “You okay kid?”

            Barry looked up, as if he just realized he was in a getaway car full of criminals, “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

            Everyone in the back of the van raised an eyebrow at that, “You’re covered in blood Barry.” Len reminded him helpfully.

            Oh, right. Barry shrugged, “That bastard deserved to die. I was happy to be the one to do it. Nobody should get to hurt kids like that.” His eyes were distant, thinking back to his own childhood.

            Leonard placed a soothing arm around his shoulders, “Didn’t think you had in you kid. Good work.”

            Barry laughed quietly, leaning into Len’s touch, the usual instinctive flinch strangely absent. Who’d have thought he, the Flash, would end up in the back of a getaway car, curled up in Captain Cold’s arms and covered in the blood of a man he’d just killed in cold blood?

            _If only Central City could see their hero now._

***

            The car slowed once they got to the other side of Central City, on the outskirts of a small suburb. The little houses they passed, no doubt cheerful and full of life during the day, were peaceful and silent during these early morning hours. Unlike the city, which was full of life at all hours of the night, everyone was sound asleep here, having a good night’s rest for school or work in a few hours.

There was something both funny and wrong at the same time about driving through in their black van full of criminals, three of which had just escaped prison and one that was soaked to the bone in another man’s blood.

The house they stopped in front of wasn’t unlike any of its neighbors, minus the children’s toys strewn across the lawn of course. It was painted, from what Barry could tell in the dim light, a soft blue with cheery white trim. There was even a porch swing to the right of the front door and flowers blooming alongside the pathway to it. A disbelieving snort escaped Barry’s lips as he jumped out of the back of the van with the rest of the Rogues.

“Wait, you’re telling me that _you guys_ live here?” More laughter bubbled out of Barry’s lips and he bit his lip, looking between Mick, all scars and muscle, and Len, with his icy gaze and mischievous smirk. “Wait, wait who mows the lawn and who tends to the flowers? I can just see it now. Oh this is priceless.”

An achingly familiar voice spoke up behind them, “We pay someone to mow the lawn obviously, but you’d be surprised at how much Hartley likes to garden.”

There was a distant, “hey!” From Hartley, but he got ignored.

Barry whipped around to see her standing there. Lisa. The first person to say a kind word to him when he was fourteen since his mother’s death. The girl who showed him how to really fight back and do some damage but would also eagerly read Barry’s newest comic books with him (Stolen from the shop down the street), huddled together on his rickety twin bed.

He grinned, the most genuine grin he’d had on his face in the past twelve years. “Hey Lisa… Remember me?”

Lisa returned his grin, throwing her arms around him in a surprisingly tight embrace before pulling back to hold him art arms-length, looking at him. “Oh my god Barry who knew you’d become such a twink?”

Leonard cleared his throat, eyes flickering between his sister and his… whatever Barry was to him. “Sorry to interrupt sis, but I wasn’t aware you two knew each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update again! But thank you guys for being so wonderful and supportive about it and about this story I really appreciate it! I've been really into Prison Break lately and I was wondering if any of you had seen the show (Wentworth Miller and Dominic Purcell play the main characters) and if you knew of any good fanfics for the show. Also, if I were to write a Prison Break Fanfic, would any of you be interested in reading it? Either way, thank you so much for reading my story, please leave me a comment telling me what y'all think about it so far!


	10. Ink and Metal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically just fluff and shit. No apologies.

            The Rogue Gallery piled into 143 Valley Road and set about their various tasks, it was obvious they’d done this whole prison break thing before. Hartley went to find something edible for them to eat, Mark went upstairs and came back with a box of clothes they could change into, and Lisa started talking Barry’s ear off in excitement. Mick and Leonard had sat heavily on the couch after changing and watched the normally calm and collected woman chatter like a teenager like she hadn’t in years.

“You should change too Barry, once the blood dries it’ll be a pain in the ass to get out of the fabric.” Lisa observed, pausing her mostly one-sided conversation about how bull-headed ‘the boys’ were and how it will be nice to have someone as cool as her around.

Barry shrugged, pulling the shirt off over his head, “Wait, why do we need to get the stains out?”

Lisa took it front him, tucking it in a bundle under her arm, “So we can savor this precious memory of cour-“ She broke off when Barry stepped into the light of the lamp beside the couch, taking in his bare torso. Instead of commenting on the hundreds of white scars covering it, she whistled in appreciation. “Damn you got hot Allen. What kind of workout gives you a body like that?”

Barry blushed, cheeks turning pink, “I uh… run sometimes.”

A dramatic gasp from Lisa, “And these tattoos! You definitely need more of those.” She ran her fingers along the intricately drawn swallows that rested on either side of Barry’s ribcage, one on each side. The blue one on his right side for his mother, an olive branch clutched in its talons, and the red one on the left for his father, barbed wire in its own talons. “Who knew the little dweeb from the home all those years ago would end up being such a bad boy? And a _felon_ to boot!”

Mardon walked back into the room with Hartley, both carrying enough food to feed an army and set it out of the coffee table. Mardon, in all of his bluntness, openly stared at Barry’s torso, “Fuck, what happened to you? I thought you supposed to be some dorky CSI or something.”

Barry’s face paled quickly and he tensed, “Sorry I uh… I think I’ll go take a shower or something…rinse the blood off and… stuff.” He turned and fled up the stairs, struggling to maintain a normal human pace.

Lisa scowled at Mardon, “What do you think happened Mark? I knew you were tactless but fuck you can be stupid too.”

***

Barry came back twenty minutes later, redressed in a pair of Len’s sweatpants and a faded shirt from some local band that someone in their group had probably seen years ago and forgotten about. “Hey, sorry about running off like that. This is all a bit weird for me.”

“You just broke out of prison and slit a man’s throat, that’d be weird for anybody.” Mick grunted, offering Barry a cigarette as the younger man sat down beside him.

Barry took it, lit it, and took a long drag, looking over to Mardon who sat with his arms folded leaning against the wall, “You want to know what happened to me? The government happened to me. Right after they wrongfully imprisoned my innocent father for killing my mother and let the real murderer get away, they put me in the system and well…” He gestured to his body, “I didn’t come out in mint condition.”

Lisa came over and sat herself on Barry’s lap, taking the cigarette out of his hand and taking a drag of it herself, staining the white paper pink with her lipstick. “These things’ll kill you ya know.”

“Here’s hoping.” Barry rolled his eyes, stealing it back and taking another drag.

Lisa paused, suddenly moving so she was straddling Barry’s lap and gripped Barry’s chin, “Wait. Open your mouth.” He did as she asked and she slapped him. Hard.

He winced, reaching up to hold his free hand against his reddened cheek, “Ow what the fuck Lisa?”

“You did _not_ get rid of your tongue piercing.”

            “No, you’re right. I didn’t! They made me take it out after I was arrested.” Barry rubbed his cheek, pouting up at Lisa, “Fuck. Warn a guy before you bitch slap him.”

            Lisa smiled innocently, “Sorry _baby_ Bear. I have some jewelry you can use upstairs. I’ll go get it.” She patted his cheek fondly and got off of him, bouncing off up the stairs.

            Everyone in the room stared at him silently for several moments while he finished his cigarette. Eventually Leonard spoke up, voice half serious and half teasing, “What are your intentions with my sister Barry?” To be honest Len had only spoken to try and distract himself from the thought of what Barry could _do_ with his apparent piercing.

            At the same time a blushing Hartley said, “Tongue piercing?”

            Barry rolled his eyes and looked up the stairs after Lisa, then back to Len, “To get her back for slapping me. Why do our visits always end in violence?”

            Lisa patted Hartley patronizingly on the arm as she passed him, opening a new, sterile packet of barbells as she went, “Don’t think too hard about it darling.” And to her brother, “He’s gay you big idiot.” She went back to straddling Barry’s lap, “Sorry for the violence babe. Open up.”

            At some point the rest of the rogues had started ignoring them, Mardon getting out the blueprints to the museum they were going to rob before his boss’s untimely arrest. They were brought out of their quiet planning by Barry’s yelp of pain.

            “Ouch! What the fuck Lisa?” He whined, gingerly poking at his tongue with his fingertips while glaring at her.

            Lisa shrugged, “It had started closing up while it was out. I had to force it. Don’t you want to be able to suck dick like a pro Barry? Sort out your priorities please.”

            Hartley made a choking sound and blushed ten times darker than before. Meanwhile Len did _not_ need those thoughts in his head and staring blankly down at the security guard for the museum’s schedule in front of him.

            Barry seemed unfazed though and playfully shoved Lisa off of him, “I haven’t sucked dick in like half a year asshole.”

            “Now that’s just sad.”

            Leonard decided to end that line of conversation before it got out of hand, clearing his throat and pointedly avoiding eve contact with Barry or his sister, “Maybe it’s time for bed. We’ve had a… long night.”

            Lisa grinned impishly, “You can sleep in my room Bear!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I should be getting back to our regularly scheduled posting now. My basic idea for that Prison Break fic is like a season one AU where instead of being innocent Michael and Lincoln are actually like crazy murderers. Like a serial killer AU that isn't actually too much of an AU. IDK tell me what you think about that idea. To the reader that said they were gonna write a Prison Break fic that was kinda sorta like this ColdFlash fic that you're all reading: PLEASE write that it sounds fucking amazing. I will offer you any support or whatever I can to help you do that. Anyways, thank for reading THIS story, tell me what you guys think in the comments below!!!


	11. Adoption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry finally becomes a part of the family. The first adoption he is actually happy about.

            The next morning at eleven, everyone had made it downstairs to crowd around the dining table and eat. Mick had gotten up earlier than the rest of them to cook, something he was surprisingly skilled at. Nobody dared to say anything about it, knowing that any jokes could cause their beds to suddenly burst into flame or their faces to be smashed in with the hot frying pan Mick held in one hand, just daring anyone to mention it. Leonard was the only one who knew his partner well enough to know that Mick was getting restless, needing something to do with his hands to distract him. It was either producing enough food to feed an army or burning the house down around them.

            They needed to leave. Sooner rather than later. Three high profile convicts escaped a maximum security prison without a hitch, no guards even realizing something was wrong until they were already gone.

            Leonard glanced over to Barry, who was shoving food in his mouth like it was the last meal he’d ever eat. The kid had already put away enough to feed a small country and showed no signs of slowing down. Where was this appetite in prison? Whatever, it didn’t matter right now. Len cleared his throat, drawing Barry’s attention to him. “So, Barry… What are you planning to do with this newfound freedom of yours?”

            Like some sort of python, Barry swallowed everything in his mouth without choking before answering, “Uh, I don’t know… I don’t really have anywhere to go I guess…” He trailed off, leveling Len with the most intense puppy-dog gaze of all time.

            Secretly, this had been just what he and Mick had hoped for. Barry’s knowledge of the CCPD’s inner workings would be invaluable to them, and another skilled thief definitely wouldn’t hurt during heists.

            Leonard let out a dramatic sigh, “Well… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let you stay a while longer. I have grown used to your presence. The way someone gets used to a pest infestation in their house. But we need to know we can trust you, because we’ve got to skip town. The cops are on our asses and the Flash is never far behind. Usually ahead. We need to know you won’t give away our location to save your ass or the ass of your foster father. He’s undoubtedly in deep shit now that you’ve broken out, if he wasn’t already just because of your arrest. They’ll try and use him against you.”

            Barry leaned back in his chair and smirked, meeting Leonard’s eyes with his own suddenly cold, hard ones. “The only family I’ve got is either locked up in Iron Heights or seated at this table.” His eyes flickered to Lisa, then to Mick, and then back to Len. “Anyone else is a stranger. They all only know the Barry Allen I’ve wanted them to know. They’ve got no idea about who I really am.”

            “And who would that be?” Leonard asked, eyes locked on Barry’s, loving the unbridled darkness he found in their depths.

            Barry bit his lower lip and shrugged, looking up through his eyelashes coyly, “Guess you’ll have to wait and see for yourself.”

***

            A different car, this one a classic white minivan, was pulled out of the garage and loaded with anything in the safe house that had been of any importance. Cash, fake passports and licenses, credit and debit cards connected to accounts under various alibis from several different banks, a med kit, and of course an assortment of guns and other weaponry that would easily be at home in the hands of the military, not hidden in the wall behind the washing machine in some suburban home in Central. The Rogues piled in, Hartley behind the wheel and Lisa sitting beside him in the passenger seat. The least conspicuous of their merry group of felons.

            After pulling their escape van from last night into the now empty garage and removing its license plates, Mick made one last sweep of the cheery little house, thoroughly saturating the entire interior of the building in gasoline. He walked casually out the front door, striking a match as he went and dropping it behind him. Just as he climbed into the van and slammed the rolling door behind him, there was a loud _boom,_ the windows exploding outward and the house going up in flames.

            They sped off down the street to the sound of Mick’s roaring laughter, Leonard having to reach over and tug Mick away from the window he was leaning out, watching the fire consume the house with a dazed expression. “Someone’ll see you.” Len hissed, cuffing the back of Mick’s head and rolling his eyes.

            Mick just laughed again, “I’ve wanted to do that ever since you bought that place.”

            Barry leaned over to the pair from his place in the very back seat beside Mardon, “Where to _boss_?” He asked Leonard with a wicked grin, obviously teasing him.

            Leonard looked out the window and grinned too, “Starling City.”

            Unnoticed by his companions, Barry froze. _Oliver._ The only person outside of his team that knew his secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response I've gotten from you guys is literally the best thing ever. I love you babes and I always regret reading all my comments in the morning because then the rest of the day is dull by comparison. I think, after I've finished this story up, I'll start a Prison Break story and maybe some lovely cliche ColdFlash AUs. Like a good old high school AU or the lovely trope: 'I'm friends with your sister and I didn't realize her brother was so hot holy fuck'. Let me know what you think about those ideas and about this chapter or just the story so far.


	12. Warrant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a dark turn for Barry's thoughts. You've just gotta remember that he's been through some shit. Also the news.

            It took ten hours for them to reach Starling City. Barry could’ve made it in less than one on foot, but nobody here needed to know that right now. A part of him felt guilty for leaving his team behind to deal with the mysterious Man in Yellow. But if they knew where he was, they’d only try to convince him to turn himself in. Something Barry was not willing to do.

            He hadn’t gotten the antidote from Star Labs either. Or picked up the suit he’d ordered from Europe. It would be at his own safe house by now. He’d been stupid to assume he would be there to retrieve it when it arrived. At least he had paid some random neighbor’s kid to bring his mail in for him. With any luck it would still be there when he had time to gather it.

            That left Barry bruised, virtually defenseless, and surrounded by people he’d spent hours as the Flash trying to bring down. Running would give away his identity to the Rogues, who wouldn’t trust him after they knew who he was. Not that he had anywhere to run _to._ If he ran, he’d lose the chance to do the only thing he was good for with the only _people_ that saw any use for him. _If he ran… he’d lose Len._ The traitorous thought was shoved aside quickly. He knew the only reason Snart kept him around was so Barry could repay his protection debt and to keep Barry from running to the cops with their location. Lisa probably just felt some kind of obligation to keep her brother from killing Barry, some remnant of responsibility left over from the home no doubt.

            _This_ was why he preferred to be alone. It was hard to gauge people’s actions and to depend on them for anything. Never before had anyone done _anything_ for Barry without some sort of agenda of their own to fulfill. An eye for an eye. Nothing had ever disproven this theory. All those homes had taken him in for the money, Joe had taken him in out of guilt, Star Labs had taken him to keep him and his powers off the streets, and now Len was taking him in so he could repay his debt. Barry knew that once he had, they’d either kill him or leave him.

            Barry mulled over these thoughts as they drove towards Starling, silently staring out the window at the green blur of trees as they flickered by. Nobody bothered him. Lisa was occupied with giving Hartley directions, Mick and Leonard seemed to be having a quiet discussion about something, and Mardon was calling the CCPD on various burner phones, reporting seeing the escaped prisoners at different locations all over Central City. He called infrequently, throwing the phone out the window once he was done with the call.

***

            _“Fugitives Mick ‘Heatwave’ Rory, Leonard ‘Captain Cold’ Snart, and Bartholomew Allen are still on the run. After escaping from Iron Heights late last night, a witness reported seeing six people, three of which matching the criminal’s descriptions, exit a black van and enter a house on their street just a few hours later. This information came too late however, the witness only coming forward after the house_ exploded _just this afternoon. The fire department is still taking care of the matter, and it is so far unknown if any bodies were found inside the ruins._

_“If you have any information regarding the three men pictured here, the CCPD urges you to call the anonymous tip line below and reminds you to not approach these men, as they are all convicted murderers and most likely armed and dangerous.” Their mugshots appeared, side by side, on the screen._

            The remainder of ‘Team Flash’ sat in Star Labs, watching the news, eyes wide. Cisco groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as he paced up and down the space behind his desk, “C’mon Barry… this isn’t right man. Don’t do this.”

            Caitlin worried her bottom lip between her teeth, wringing her hands, “Why didn’t he just wait until we could prove him innocent?”

            “I don’t know… maybe he thought having the Flash out was more important? Maybe he just hasn’t been able to ditch the Rogue’s yet?” Cisco stopped and leaned over his computer for a moment, typing furiously, “Here, I hacked into the CCPD’s database. Here’s a map with all of the places they’ve been seen marked.” Cisco groaned and shook his head after a minute, “It’s completely random. This doesn’t tell us anything.”

            Doctor Wells wheeled over to look over Cisco’s shoulder, lips pursed, “Maybe it’s what it’s not telling us instead.” He pointed to several red dots clustered closer together than the rest, “This is all along the east side of the city… maybe they set false alarms, headed west and don’t want anyone to see them go?”

            “Go where? West is a very vague direction. It doesn’t even have to be west actually, they could’ve used reverse psychology and be headed east. This is useless.” Cisco pushed away from his desk, pacing again, “We need some way to track them.”

***                                                                       

            Eobard Thawne stayed late that night after Cisco and Caitlin had left, staring at the newspaper from 2020 Gideon had projected for him. The muscles in his jaw worked as his teeth ground together. The front page had changed, a slightly older Barry Allen looking up the security camera the picture had come from with a wink.

            **_Five Hundred Million Missing from Central City Bank: Suspected to be the Work of Notorious Criminal Masterminds Leonard Snart and Barry Allen._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy almost Halloween. I'm spending it watching Hannibal and eating paleo pumpkin bread, what about you guys? I just started the fourth season of Prison Break and I'm stressed but impressed. Also I haven't started season 3 of the Flash yet so stop spoiling it for me y'all. Anyways, I'm full of great ideas for my Prison Break fic and I'm loving your guys' feedback on this fic here. SO leave me a comment or two telling me what you think!


	13. Okay Maybe Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival in Starling, Len drives another van, Barry maybe got fucked by Oliver that one time.

            The Rogues didn’t reach the edge of Starling City until dark, where they stopped to stay in a motel for the night. They would get to their safe house tomorrow after switching cars again and sleeping for a couple hours.

            They bought three rooms, all beside each other and gathered in the center room to discuss their plans. Their motel was a seedy little place that charged by the hour and didn’t ask for and identification, so Lisa had been able to pay for their rooms in cash without any questions.

            Leonard sat in the desk chair in the corner of the room, hands folded across his lap and legs crossed casually, “Here’s the plan: we stay here, move on tomorrow, and lay low for a while until this whole thing blows over. It’s taken the CCPD about four weeks to give up the search in the past, and considering how _notorious_ Mick and I are for escaping their cages and disappearing into the wind, we might not even have to wait that long.”

            “Wait how many times have you done this?” Hartley squawked.

            Barry let out a breathless laugh, “They’ve escaped from Iron Heights twice before this. I’ve read their files.”

            Leonard returned Barry’s look with a wicked grin, “Now don’t forget about our breaking out of Juvie. It was the first job we worked on together after all. The start of our partnership.”

            “I thought making that one guard ‘disappear’ was our first job.” Mick laughed, reclining against the headboard of the motel bed.

            “That was part of our escape so it still qualifies as our first job I’d say.”

            Later that night, after the rest of the Rogue’s had gone to back to their own rooms,  Lisa turned to Barry, who was seated beside her at the foot of the bed closest to the door, “Lenny was in prison when I met you in the home. Our father… well he left the house for a week on some ‘job’ and the neighbors called child protective services on his ass. I helped Lenny escape his first vacation at Iron Heights as soon as I was old enough to leave, and we disappeared together. That’s why I never contacted you again.”

            Barry shrugged, eyes distant, “I just figured that you were free and didn’t want to be reminded of what you got to leave behind.” Maybe Lisa really did want to be around him then, for some reason other than guilt.

            Lisa laid a hand over Barry’s and gave it a squeeze, “You were one of the first people other than Lenny that I connected with Bear. I wouldn’t just throw that away.”

            _But you did, didn’t you?_ A traitorous voice whispered in the depths of Barry’s mind.

            ***

            The next morning they all met up out front of their rooms. The Rogue’s Gallery plus Barry left their minivan in the parking lot of the Four Clovers Motel and walked down the block, where they got into another van. This one was a cheery blue color with a logo for some carpet cleaning service printed on the side.

            “Where’d you get a piece of junk like this?” Mick asked as they watched Len unlock and swing open the back doors.

            “Someone owed me a favor, I cashed in. Simple.” Leonard shrugged. “Everyone in.” The group piled into the back of the van while Leonard pulled on a grey jumper with the company’s logo on it. “To blend in.” He explained, “Nobody would expect wanted felon Captain Cold to be driving a company van through suburban Starling.”

            Apparently Snart was right, and their entire ride through Starling was met went smoothly. They were all on edge, waiting in the dark while their leader drove on. Every stoplight was met with baited breath and hands on hidden weapons, every distant siren an opportunity to end up back in prison.

            Their new safe house was a nondescript single story suburban home that wasn’t too unlike their old one. Mick was looking forward to burning it down later on, the cheery floral curtains in the windows would catch fire nicely and considering how close the surrounding houses were the entire block would light up easily.

            “We stayed in a safe house in Gotham once,” Lisa told Barry as they brought their belongings inside, “Big mistake, people in Gotham are fucking crazy. We were being mugged or shot at every time we so much as stepped outside. So hopefully Starling won’t be such a shit show.”

            Barry shrugged, “Can’t say I’ve ever been robbed on my visits to this city. I think I was the only one doing the robbing honestly.”

            Lisa clapped her hands together and squealed, “Ooh! You can help us out then! Ya know those blueprints Lenny and the boys were lookin’ at last night? We’re gonna steal some shit.” She smirked devilishly, “Some really _nice_ shit.”

            “Because that goes hand-in-hand with laying low.” Barry snorted, but smiled back at her. A heist sounded fun. Especially one with his new family. _Hopefully they won’t get rid of me afterwards…_

            Len came into the house after them, “Well we can’t just sit around while we wait for the cops to give up. Might as well be productive. The Queen family won’t even miss one measly little priceless bust.”

            “Wait we’re stealing from the _Queens_? I can’t just steal from a friend that’s a new low.” Barry cringed, thinking about Oliver. _He probably never considered us friends actually… especially now that I’ve been arrested…_

            Lisa gaped at Barry, “You’re friends with the Queens?”

            “Not really. I mean I helped Oliver with a few things but-“

            “Did you fuck him? Well… did _he_ fuck _you_?” Lisa grinned, “Please tell me you didn’t pass up that opportunity.”

            Barry blushed slightly and glanced over at Len awkwardly, silently wondering what his old cellmate thought about their line of conversation. But Leonard was pointedly not listening to their conversation, making a show of putting the things they brought inside away. Barry bit his lip and looked back to Lisa, “Okay _maybe_ we went back to his place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY MOTHERFUCKING HALLOWEEN BITCHES!!!!!! This is my favorite day of the year. I'm not really celebrating though because I don't eat sugar and I'm too old to trick or treat... it's very sad really. Instead I'm spending the night writing - you're welcome. Oh and I wanted to say, if anyone wants to suggest new stories for me to write, wants help with their own fics, or wants to talk or whatever, my email is annietewalt@gmail.com. Feel free to contact me whenever. Now, leave me some comments telling me what you think!


	14. According to Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans not going like they were supposed to, Oliver is good in bed, and Mardon is done with everyone's shit.

            Things were not going according to Eobard’s plan. Barry was supposed to be focused on saving people. On becoming _The Flash._ Instead he had completely disappeared. He had escaped _prison_ with the _villain_ that he was supposed to be fighting. They might as well jump into bed together at this point. Eobard couldn’t have that, he needed Barry to be a hero. Without him saving people and always needing to get faster, Eobard would never get home.

            Right now, with the police searching the entire city for Barry and his new ‘friends’, Barry might as well have never become a super hero at all. Eobard slammed his hand against the wall as a wave of anger pulsed through him, _I’ll just have to give him a reason to come back then and be a hero._

***

            Lisa was a bit too excited about the idea of Barry and Oliver sleeping together. It was all she could seem to focus on. They would be right in the middle of going over plans or eating a meal, and Lisa would just start smirking at Barry. Now, Leonard was all for people being able to sleep with whoever the fuck they wanted to, but the thought of Oliver and Barry together made his stomach churn and his chest ache for some reason. A strange mix of anger, embarrassment, and something that was definitely _not_ jealousy thank you very much would bubble up inside him.

            “Was he as good as everyone says he is?” Lisa asked in the middle of dinner one night, nudging Barry’s side with her elbow and smirking.

            Barry held up a hand as he finished chewing the food he had crammed into his mouth, cheeks turning a light shade of pink, “Better. Much better.” He grinned back at Lisa, “He could literally pick me up and fuck me against the wall like some sort of movie.”

            It was sentences like that that made Leonard regret making everyone sit down and eat together. Sure, he didn’t expect _polite_ conversation from his Rogues, or even civilized conversation honestly. But you’d think his little sister and his… Barry would at least show some sort of restraint. They were just casually talking about Oliver Queen’s sex skills like normal people would talk about the weather (Which was actually a common topic with Mardon around). Leonard really didn’t need the thought of Barry pressed against a wall being fucked plaguing his thoughts while eating pizza next to Mick.

            The rest of the Rogue’s Gallery was completely used to it by now though. You’d think Barry and Lisa really were just talking about the chances of rain with how normal everyone was acting. Mick and Mark were just completely ignoring the pair, watching the television and occasionally talking. Hartley, aside from the occasional blush, did a great job of ignoring them too, watching tv with a little less attention and pointing out any science facts that the characters in whatever show they were watching made. For whatever reason, Len could _not_ focus on anything other than their conversations once they started. Jesus, it was like being a teenager all over again. Except when he was a teenager Len was more focused on keeping Lewis from attacking Lisa than sex.

            Not that Len was like, _noticing_ or anything but he was about ninety percent sure Barry had some sort of oral fixation. When he didn’t have a cigarette between his lips (Which he just about chain smoked, not that Len was worried or anything but come _on_ how was the kid not already dying of cancer) he was always messing with his tongue piercing. Knowing it was there was challenging enough, but constantly being reminded of the fact was torture.

            They’d been in their safe house for two days, laying low and watching the news for updates on their status as wanted criminals. Lisa and Barry were nearly inseparable, always sitting close to each other and whispering about something before bursting into fits of laughter. It was the only time anyone ever really saw Barry laugh.

.           But today was different, when Barry came downstairs he looked paler than usual. Almost ill. Oddly, Mick was the first person to notice the shift in demeanor. Something about the kid’s silence was different than usual. Where he used to be defiant Barry was… subdued. Like someone had just killed his puppy.

            “What’s wrong with you kid?” Mick asked bluntly.

            Barry sat down in the usual space beside Lisa, who had come downstairs earlier than him this morning. “It’s just… all of the guards I shot during that heist. The ones that survived…” He looked up at them all with an unreadable expression, “While we were in Iron Heights they all died in the hospital. I didn’t know until just now. I borrowed Lisa’s laptop and suddenly I’m being charged with multiple counts of homicide. The only reason that one guard died was because there was no other way to keep him from triggering the alarm.”

            Lisa bit her lip and glanced over at Barry with worried eyes, “You didn’t know they’d die Bear… you can’t blame yourself.”

            Barry rolled his eyes, “I don’t care that they _died._ I’m saying I didn’t hurt any of them badly enough to kill them. I was fucking set up and now the CCPD wants my head even more than before.” He gave a humorless laugh and shook his head, “I’ll never dig myself out of this grave.”

            Len pulled up a chair on Barry’s other side and sat on it backwards, folding his hands beneath his chin over the backrest, “Why would you want to? Even if you were framed for this job, you’re hardly an innocent, Barry.”

            “I’ll never be able to go back to my old life.” Barry protested, feeling the flames of anger start to ignite in his chest.

            He raised an eyebrow and gave his signature cool smirk, “Why on _Earth_ would you want to go back to that drivel? Really, Barry… Whoever set you up did you a favor. You’re _free._ ”

            Leonard said the word ‘free’ in a sort of soft, sultry purr. It made an entirely different type of heat rise inside of Barry. And really… the man had a point. Was Barry ever really happy with the way things used to be before Iron Heights? No, he never was. Always faking who he was and sneaking around behind everyone’s backs was _exhausting._ With the Rogue’s Gallery – no matter how fleeting his time with them might be – he felt real for the first time in his life.

            Barry nodded and glanced around the table, a Snart on either side of him, Mick a few feet away by the stove, Hartley messing with the mechanisms on his gauntlets, and Mardon eating fucking _Cheerios_ in the corner with the usual scowl on his face. Everyone in this room had tried to kill him and yet there was nowhere else Barry would rather be.

            “Yeah. Yeah you’re right Len. Everything is so different now… but I’ve never felt more comfortable anywhere else than I do in this room with this band of mismatched thieves.”

            Mardon glared at him, “If you keep spewing this touchy-feely shit, you better not get _too_ comfortable Allen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm like two episodes away from finishing all of Prison Break and I'm dying inside. WHen you read this I'll probably have finished it and will actually be dead. If I die, I can't finish this story, do you see my problem? So in order to survive I'll be reading copious amounts of fanfiction and crying in a corner. Wish me luck. Leave me a comment letting me know what you think of the story so far! And in the commnets please DON"T SPOIL anything about Prison Break for anyone!


	15. Wreck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Barry catch up, also a car crash.

            The heist went surprisingly smoothly. For all the time they spent in the last few days talking about it and planning it, you’d expect _something_ to go wrong, but nothing had so far. Which, naturally, meant they didn’t get away with their loot. Barry was the king of speaking too soon after all.

            They were speeding away from the gallery in a _new_ pedophile-esque van when everything started going to shit. No alarms had even been triggered in the gallery, the guards at the exits were easily taken down by Mick and Mardon (There was no way Barry was gonna call him _Mark_ ), and the thick glass case was turned to absolute dust by Hartley’s gauntlets. Lisa got to make another few guards into gold, and Barry got to shoot an overly heroic guard between the eyes that way coming up behind Len while he was trying to remove the bust without triggering any hidden alarms (The kill was met with a quick reminder from Len that the Flash wouldn’t like them killing unnecessarily. Barry fought hard not to laugh at that one.).

            But of fucking- _course_ it couldn’t go smoothly past that. The front left tire of the van was punctured by a well-placed arrow and sent the van – and its occupants – careening off the road and straight around a telephone pole. The impact slammed everyone in the back of the vehicle hard into the mesh grate that separated the driver’s seat from the back but left everyone – thankfully – conscious – though a bit bruised - enough to stumble out of the back doors and out into the street. Their driver however had the entire front of the van crushed into his right side. Their driver this time around was Barry. Naturally.

            The rest of the Rogue’s scrambled to their feet, any realization that Barry was in danger delayed by the sight of the man before them. The Green Arrow, notorious for having little to no patience with anyone he fought. A man much fonder of sticking an arrow through your eye than talking it out.

            A normal human would be unconscious or _dead_ from a crash like that. Barry definitely suffered some head trauma though, because everything was fuzzy and muffled around him. His vision blurred in and out of darkness, his body ached with a sort of dull, pulsing throb, and Barry could faintly recognize the sounds of a conversation going on somewhere nearby. _Maybe I should take a nap… I’m pretty tired…_

            “Hand over what you took and turn yourself in to the police. Maybe I won’t kill you.” The Green Arrow demanded, arrow nocked and ready to plunge straight into Leonard’s chest.

            Leonard kept his composure easily though, and met the Arrow’s fierce glare with a steady smirk, “How about no?”

            Leonard probably would have gotten himself killed had Mick not interrupted the two just then with a shout, “Barry! Len, Barry’s still in there, I think that things about to blow. We’ve got to get him out of there.”

            Turning his back on the murderous vigilante, completely unconcerned about the very real threat of death, Len ran with the rest of the Rogues back towards the car wreck. The entire front half of the van was folded inward like some sort of sick accordion, the windshield shattered and bloodstained. Everyone got an uneasy feeling in their stomachs at the sight that they expected to see.

            Except, when they got to the driver-side door and wrenched it open, the seat that should have contained a bloody or _dead_ Barry Allen was _empty._

            “Looking for me?” A weak voice sounded somewhere to their left in the darkness. They were about to investigate, but the Arrow beat them to it, hauling a blood-soaked Barry out of the gloom by the front of his shirt and throwing him out into the street.

            The Arrow loomed over Barry, who coughed weakly in protest to the rough treatment, “Barry Allen. I should’ve known you’d be too stupid to ditch these crooks once you broke out.”

            The Rogues watched with increasing confusion as Barry let out a small laugh and reached up, fingers rust-red with drying blood, to touch the Arrow’s arm lightly, “Safety in numbers and all that. It’s good to see you.”

            Len’s brain sort of short-circuited at that. _Why would any criminal be glad to see the Green Fucking Arrow crouched over them like a big ugly vulture?_

            Shockingly, The Arrow set aside his bow and placed the freed hand over Barry’s, “It’s good to see you too. Can you stand?”

            _Of course he can’t stand he was just in an accident that_ you _caused._ Leonard wanted to grow, but was stopped by Lisa’s hand on his shoulder.

            Somehow, Barry managed to get to his feet. He shook slightly, but took a few test bounces and straightened his back, vertebrae cracking back into place. “Nothing serious,” He told the Arrow, “Just a bit of a break, maybe a concussion. Feels like a clean break though, should heal just fine.” The light of the nearby streetlamp highlighted the blood and chunks of glass stuck to the side of his face on arms as he stepped into it.

            Leonard couldn’t help but growl at the sound of that, “Barry you just almost _died._ Care to explain what’s going on here?”

            Barry glanced between The Arrow and Len nervously, “No… no I’m alright just a bit… rattled.” He finished lamely.

            “A broken leg isn’t the same as being ‘rattled’, Barry. You shouldn’t be walking on that.” Len growled again. Jeez, he was starting to sound like Mick.

            “Uhh… it’s not broken. Probably just a sprained ankle. You know me… I’m a drama queen.” Barry offered sheepishly.

            Before Len could form a retort, Hartley interrupted them, “So are we going to fight this guy or what? I want to get home and go to sleep.”

            Mardon made a sound of approval, “We passed an SUV parked on the side of the road a couple hundred feet back, I’ll go hotwire it.” He walked off casually, as if they weren’t in danger of being shot.

            The Arrow watched him leave quietly, then turned back to Barry, “I’ll let you off just this once Barry. But don’t expect this to happen again. Next time I’ll shoot all of you without a second thought.”

            Barry pouted, seemingly oblivious to the death threat he’d just received. “I’d like to see you try.”

            The Arrow gave Barry one last pointed look before slipping away into the darkness, turning just before he was out of sight, “And Barry? Reconsider the company you’re keeping.”

            “Okay what the fuck Bear?” Lisa demanded, “What was that?”

            Barry shrugged and looked out into the darkness, “I worked with his team a bit. Offered them some of my CSI smarts. He thinks he knows me. One of the few people in this world that thinks I’m innocent and probably the only one who is glad I broke out of Iron Heights. Though he probably isn’t thrilled it was with you guys.”

            Hartley groaned and threw his hands in the air in exasperation, “Of course you worked with a superhero. Why should we trust you? Next thing we’ll find out is that this is some intricate sting operation with the CCPD!”

            Barry growled low in his chest and stalked over to Hartley, limp suddenly disappearing and eyes bright with barely-contained rage, “Tell me then, what should I do to prove myself to you? Bomb the CCPD? Kill the people I used to pretend were my friends and family back in Central?” He gave a cold, emotionless smile, “I could ask the same of you. You haven’t proven to be especially trustworthy either. We’re _criminals_ Rathaway. I have a price on my head and an army of betrayed, angry cops on my ass. Now isn’t the best time to test my patience.”

            Barry’s voice grew increasingly dark, and everyone watching him was filled with shock. Sure, they’d seen Barry when he was all brooding and emotionless, Mick and Len had even seen him kill a man. But right now, with Hartley questioning his loyalty, and blood coating his face, Barry looked absolutely deadly.

            Len walked towards the pair and cautiously placed a hand on Barry’s shoulder, “He didn’t mean anything by it Bear… C’mon, let’s go home and get you cleaned up. You’ve got glass and blood all over you.”

            Slowly, Barry released Hartley, who backed away rather quickly, hands up in the universal sign of peace, “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s hard to trust people in this line of work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter I have completed so far in this story. I should still have chapter sixteen up tomorrow, but if not, you have my permission to rip off my arms and beat me with them. Now, please leave me a comment letting me know what you think so far!


	16. Bloody Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry tries to be independent. Len ends up helping him anyway. Also queen sized beds.

            Blood and glass weren’t all Barry had to worry about. Now that he could think clearly and they were riding back to their safe house in the car Mark stole, he realized that a sharp chunk of metal had gotten imbedded in his side. Deep enough to feel his muscles trying to heal around it but not deep enough to cause too much damage to any organs that might have gotten in the way.

            Everyone else in the car was excited about their victorious heist, because the Arrow had been too distracted by Barry to take the bust back from the Rogues.

Leonard smirked as he looked at his crew in the back seat through the rearview mirror, “I have the meeting set up with the art dealer tomorrow evening in the warehouse district. We’ll all be a bit richer this time tomorrow.”

A few grins and high fives were exchanged amongst the Rogues at the sound of that, and Barry decided not to tell the group about his injury. He kept one hand pressed firmly to the wound and held the metal in place.  If it were to shift, not only would it hurt like a motherfucker, but it could puncture something vital. Also, this kept blood from staining the seat to badly and thus alerting his team mates to anything that could be amiss.

            Sticky, hot blood dripped slowly over Barry’s fingers and stained the material of his shirt. Barry chatted with the other excited Rogues, trying to ignore the pain and the familiar, uncomfortable sensation of his body trying to heal him. The serum that kept him healing normally on the outside wasn’t doing him any favors either, and rather than close tightly around the piece of metal like it usually would, the skin remained a gaping wound that wouldn’t clot.

            Back at the safe house, while everyone was off doing whatever they did after a heist, Barry managed to get upstairs to the bathroom without arousing any suspicion. There was a first-aid kit under the sink that Barry pulled out and sat beside him on the edge of the bathtub. One hand slick with blood and both shaking from blood loss, Barry managed to fumble open the plastic case and remove what he needed.

            He removed his torn and stained shirt. Then, biting his lip and bracing himself, Barry slowly pulled out the metal. It was longer than he expected, and twisted in a sort of fish-hook way that tore a whole new hole in Barry’s side. Now everything was covered in blood, his pants, the balled up shirt on the floor, the little mat meant to catch water after a shower, and Barry himself looked like he’d just walked out of a horror movie.

            He was up to his elbows in blood, slick fingers slipping and sliding off of anything he tried to grab. Now everything in the kit was smeared with streaks of blood, and the white porcelain bathtub was stained with even more of the stuff. It oozed in a steady stream from Barry’s wound, down his side, down the bathtub, and into a small pool on the tile floor.

            “Shit.” Barry hissed, struggling to thread the delicate curved needle he’d dug out of the box. When he finally got it, he held the needle with his right hand and used his left to try and hold the skin of his wound together.

            He’d only made one stitch when there was a knocking on the door. “Fuck,” Barry muttered under his breath, glaring hatefully at the door he’d forgotten to lock, “Just a minute!” He called louder.

            “Barry?” It was Len, “Are you alright? Mick said he noticed blood on the driveway after you’d gotten out of the car. Can I come in?”

            “I’m alright! It was just from my, uh, my face!” Barry’s hand slipped in the blood that covered is torso and accidentally ended up dragging his nails through the wound and ripping out the stitch he’d made. He couldn’t stop the sharp cry that came out of him at that, a wave of nausea and pain pulsing through him and blurring his vision.

            The door burst open, “Barry are you-“ Len froze, eyes suddenly huge at the sight in front of him, “Holy shit.” He rushed to Barry’s side and knelt beside him, grabbing one of the towels from the rack to press against Barry’s side. “Barry. Barry look at me, can you hear me?”

            Barry rolled his eyes and tried to scoot away from Leonard, “I’m fine. Just a bit of shrapnel. I can take care of it.”

            Len glanced around them at the blood covering nearly everything, “It looks like a Saw movie in here Barry.” His eyes landed on the chunk of metal Barry had tossed into the bathtub behind him, “We need to get you to the hospital. You shouldn’t even be conscious, Barry.”

            Barry lay a bloody hand over Len’s, “Shh, I’m fine. There’s no need to blow our cover because of a little scratch.” He smiled tiredly, “I’ve had much worse. I just need to stitch it up before I lose too much blood.”

            He tried to pry the towel off of him but Len would not be swayed, “Fine. No hospitals but you are _not_ doing this alone. And if it gets any worse than this, we will be taking you to a hospital anyway.” He peeled the blood-soaked towel away from the wound, making Barry wince slightly as the drying blood tugged at the gash. Len dug through the first aid kit, pulled out some antiseptic spray and looked back up at Barry, “Sorry about this.” He said as he sprayed what felt like liquid fire on the wound.

            Of course, Barry didn’t _need_ the spray, what with his healing abilities, but Len didn’t know that. Barry flinched away from the stinging sensation, a growl rising in his throat, “This is fucking awful.” He complained.

            Leonard gave a shaky laugh and took the needle from Barry gently, “Sorry kid, this’ll only take a moment. You aren’t the first person I’ve patched up after a bad job.”

            Barry laughed humorlessly, sitting perfectly still while the needle dipped in and out of his skin. He looked down to inspect Len’s handiwork, “You weren’t kidding. This is almost looks like a doctor’s work.”

            Len rolled his eyes and tied off the last stitch, then looked up at Barry, “Been practicing since I was eight. Dear old dad didn’t like hospitals too much. Nobody in there he could convince to look the other way.” He started cleaning the blood off of Barry’s skin gently, “I’ll have to see if we have anything stronger than ibuprofen in the house. Maybe something left over from the last time one of us got shot. Can you stand? I doubt the bathtub is more comfortable than the bed.” He finished covering the wound with gauze.

            Barry easily stood, his internal injuries mostly healed already, but slung an arm around Len’s proffered shoulder anyways. To keep up appearances. Definitely not as an excuse to touch him or anything.

            They slowly made their way down the hall, but Leonard stopped in front of another door before they made it down to where Barry and Lisa were staying. “Since Lisa sleeps like the dead, I think it would be best for you and me to share a room tonight. I need to make sure you don’t bleed out and die in your sleep after all.”

            Barry felt a blush start to creep up his neck at the thought of sharing a room, sharing a _bed_ with Len. Sure they’d shared one that one time in Iron Heights, but crying about your dead mom definitely didn’t bring up any sexual feelings. Barry needed to remind himself that the possibility of dying in his sleep wasn’t actually all that sexy either. But still, things had changed since prison. If you asked either of them they’d deny it, but it was obvious that they had.

            Barry realized Len was staring at him expectantly, he cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uh, yeah that sounds good. I mean, not good because I might die but…a good idea I guess.”

            Len smirked and opened the door to his room, helping Barry towards his perfectly made bed. The lack of pictures and typical clutter that ended up in most bedrooms made sense because this wasn’t a permanent residence, the only indication of personal touch being the thick navy blue comforter settled on top of the queen sized bed.

            After Barry was securely cocooned within the blankets and pillows Len retreated back to the door, “I’ll be right back, if you start to feel a sharp ache in your side or if your breath starts making a rattling sound, shout. I really don’t need you dying in my bed. We’ll see about picking the glass out of your face when I get back.”

            “Face it,” Barry smiled tiredly, “You’d be relieved if I wasn’t around to eat all the food in the house.”

            Len smiled back with a sort of warmth Barry had never seen him direct towards anyone other than Lisa, “An extra trip to the grocery store is worth it to have you around Bear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote so much today! I suddenly have a thousand new ways to tear out your heart in the next several chapters and I'm excited in a wonderfully sadistic way about it. If I have to suffer so do you guys. But I promise it isn't all sad, there's actually going to be some really good things coming up too. And as for that other ColdFlash fic I was talking about, I have so many ideas for that one too. It's almost definitely gonna happen in the next few weeks here. But anyways, let me know what you think about this story so far? Did you laugh? Did you cry? Do you want to hunt me down and burn me alive? Let me know!


	17. It's Not Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa ships it. Everyone else is slightly confused but accepting. Barry's in trouble.

            It really was too bad that the pain killers didn’t work for Barry. For obvious reasons, Len wouldn’t let him down the entire bottle of prescription pain killers, and they probably would’ve lasted an hour or two tops. That didn’t mean Barry didn’t try and sneak more of them though after he’d though Len had fallen asleep, but the man was impossible to trick. Barry had just barely shifted to grab them off of the nightstand and Len’s hand was wrapped around his wrist, “If you aren’t dying go back to sleep Barry. No more drugs for another two hours, twenty six minutes, and seventeen seconds.”

            That was freaky, how Len could wake up like that and immediately know what time it was, what Barry had been doing, and where his arm was in the pitch-black darkness. Though, they were extremely close together. Not as close as they had to be in Iron Heights, but a queen sized bed was not meant to hold two fully grown men both over six feet tall, they were bound to be at least touching.

            Lisa woke them both up by forgetting to turn the flash off of her cellphone’s camera that she stuck in their faces. She snickered and darted out of the room, “Sorry to disturb you two lovebirds!” She called as she left. “I hope you used protection!”

            Both Leonard and Barry realized at approximately the same time what she was taking about. In the middle of the night, their subconscious minds had somehow decided that the best way to deal with the limited spaced was to wrap around each other like octopuses. Their legs were tangled together, Barry had had his head resting on Len’s chest, and Len had had his arm wrapped around Barry’s waist, somehow avoiding hurting Barry’s stitched even in his sleep.

            They sprung apart comically fast, both fighting a blush. “How does your side feel? I didn’t hurt you or anything did I?” Leonard asked Barry quietly.

            “Um, no, no nothing like that. I’m good.” Except he wasn’t really, actually his side was hurting way more than it should be considering his abilities, but maybe it was supposed to. After all, he hadn’t had to heal from anything like a normal human in a long time. He’d probably just forgotten what it was like.

            Leonard nodded, getting up from the bed and stretching – which didn’t distract Barry at all thank you very much – “We should change the dressings on that.” Len gestured to Barry’s side where a small red stain had leaked through the bandages.

            Nobody else knew about Barry’s injury yet or why he and Len would be sleeping in the same bed, so they were greeted by stares as they walked into the kitchen a while later, Barry having put a shirt on over the fresh bandages. The wound was still bleeding with no sign of clotting, which had worried Len, but Barry just wrote it off as a sign that the serum was doing its job to keep him from healing too fast.

            Mick was the first to speak, unusually enough. “Something you want to tell me Len?”

            Leonard rolled his eyes and pulled out a chair for Barry to sit in before he sat down at the table himself, raising a few eyebrows around the room, “Something you want to ask Mick?”

            Barry awkwardly took his seat wincing when he felt his stitches tug. An unfortunate reflex that raised even more eyebrows (Because if Barry was sore sitting down after spending the night with Len what conclusions would you jump to honestly?).

            “I was wondering why you never came into our room last night but I guess I’ve got my answer.” Lisa smirked, flipping through the pictures on her phone, “You guys are cute together though. I’ll be the first to admit it.”

            “I thought there was a rule about sleeping with other Rogues?” Hartley asked, smirking at Barry’s blushing face.

            Barry was too tired to deal with this shit, and in far too much pain. Jesus, it still felt like that metal was lodged inside of his abdomen. Speaking of which, how did nobody know about his injury? The upstairs bathroom looked like a crime scene for god’s sake. Len must’ve cleaned it up, yet another thing Barry owed him for. 

            “We didn’t sleep together. Well, we slept in the same bed, but we didn’t _actually_ sleep together.” Barry protested, putting food on his plate with one hand (How did Mick manage to cook so much before he’d even gotten up every day?) and subconsciously wrapping his other arm protectively around his torso.

Leonard sighed, looking over at Barry with mock disappointment in his eyes, “Why’d you have to ruin my fun? Letting them think we just decided to go and fuck after we were in a car crash and got threatened by the Green Arrow is much funnier than what really happened.”

            Lisa pouted, “You claim you didn’t do the dirty, but I have evidence that says otherwise right here on my phone.”

            Leonard scowled distastefully at her phone and snatched it out of her hands, flipping through the pictures she had taken, “Okay,” He conceded, “I see why you jumped to that conclusion, but in reality, I was just trying to make sure Barry here didn’t die in his sleep or overdose on painkillers like he kept trying to do all night.”

            “I was not!” Barry complained, “I was in fucking pain alright? You’re supposed to take painkillers if you’re in pain.”

            “You tried to take more every ten minutes Barry. I had to hide the bottle from you.”

            “It’s not my fault you have crappy painkillers.”                        

            “They were strong enough to knock Mick on his ass for a good twelve hours.”

            Lisa grabbed her phone back, making sure Len hadn’t deleted any pictures, “While it’s cute to see you fight like an old married couple and all, care to explain why Barry was going to die and you didn’t think to tell anyone Lenny?” Her voice was sickly sweet, and murder was in her eyes.

            Barry smiled nervously at Lisa, not liking the way her demeanor had changed so swiftly, “The van tried to make me into a Barry-kebob. Nothing serious, just a bit of an inconvenience.” He lifted up the edge of his shirt to show Lisa the thick white gauze wrapped around his middle.

            “The kid looked like he was about to bleed out.” Len corrected him, turning his scowl over to Barry, “He was trying to stitch himself up in the bathtub when I found him.”

            “You make it sound like someone tried to steal my kidney.”

            “You needed twenty-two stitches Barry, someone might as well have taken your kidney.”

            Lisa cuffed Barry none to gently over the back of the head, “You idiot. That’s why we’re a team! You tell your teammates if you’re hurt, and then we hold you down while one of us patches you up!”

            “We went to too much trouble getting you out of Iron Heights to let you die on us now kid.” Mick growled, his own way of showing that he was worried, “I could threaten a doctor into taking a look at you if you want.”

            That was the closest Mick would probably get to admitting he cared about Barry, so hearing that made him smile, “Thanks Mick, I’ll let you know if I need that.”

            After everyone got over the fact that Barry could’ve died, and Lisa got over her disappointment that Barry and Leonard hadn’t slept together, they started going over the next step of their heist. Tonight they would sell the stolen art to an art dealer in downtown Starling.

This part of the plan didn’t require all of the Rogues, so just Len and Mark would be going. Len being their leader, and Mark the meta-human muscle that could easily kill every one of the dealer’s hired thugs if things went south.

So they were gone that night when things started going south back at the hideout. Barry had left the rest of the group inside and went out for a cigarette when he first noticed the blood. Normally he’d just smoke inside, but Lisa had been complaining about Mick and his smoking slowly killing her, so he’d agreed to leave the house to do it. Sometimes. Other times he’d just hope she didn’t notice or forget about her new set of rules like she usually did after a while.

But the new rule was the perfect excuse to get away from them when he’d pulled his hand away from where it rested over the wound to see crimson staining his fingers. Barry had just gotten outside and yanked up his shirt to see his blood-soaked bandages when a wave of dizziness swept over him and sent him to his knees.

Barry’s hands weakly clutched at his side as everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously love you guys and the support you give me. You know that, right? Sorry for posting a little late, I've been trying to post every night at 6:30 pm pacific time, but I had orchestra and it ran a little late. But hey I still delivered didn't I? You're welcome. Anyways, PLEASE leave me more of those beautiful comments just like you all have been and let me know what you think!


	18. What in the World is Wrong with Barry Allen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mentions of eating disorders and someone being held at gunpoint. Also feelings.

Leonard had just finished the deal and was getting back into the car when Mick called him on his burner phone. He frowned at it for a moment before flipping it open and pressing it to his ear, “What’s wrong?” Mick never called him during a meeting unless something had happened.

Mick’s deep voice was tinged with worry, something only Len and maybe Lisa could pick up on after knowing him for so many years. “We’re at the twenty-four hour clinic a few blocks away from the house. Barry passed out and we found him in a puddle of blood outside. I’ve got a doctor working on him right now. Promises to be real discrete.”

Leonard paled slightly, taking a moment to tell Mark their new destination before turning back to the phone, “We’ll be there in twenty minutes. Is the doctor the only one there?”

Mick understood what he meant: _Are there anymore witnesses?_ And made an affirmative sound, “A nurse, but Lisa’s already dealt with her.” Normally they wouldn’t kill innocent people like this, but they were on the run and anyone who could point the police in the right direction had to be silenced. Buying a whole new safe house was too expensive an alternative to a few bullets and some trash bags.

***

            Len and Mark got into the clinic in twenty-two minutes and forty eight seconds. Barry was  hooked up to several different machines and a shaking doctor stood by his side, Mick right beside him with a gun pressed against his back.

            The doctor was staring at Barry and shaking his head, “This doesn’t make any sense.” He muttered, looking over the readings the monitor was providing.

            “What doesn’t make sense?” Len drawled, masking the discomfort that rose when he saw Barry, pale and limp, tucked into the hospital bed.

            The doctor jumped slightly and looked over at the newcomers, “His body is constantly trying to supply him with fresh blood, blood that he shouldn’t have been able to produce so quickly without a transfusion.” He turned back to Barry and inspected the wound in his side, the bandages having been removed and the surrounding skin properly sanitized, “Initially I thought he had fainted from blood loss, as the circumstances you found him in would suggest.” He nodded to Mick, whose scowl just deepened further, “But that’s not the case. He has more than enough blood, but his body is not letting it clot.”

            Barry’s body jerked awkwardly on the bed for a moment and he started choking. The doctor rushed to help him sit up and everyone stepped back when he coughed and sprayed blood across the bed in front of him. Barry was semi-conscious now and looked up weakly at the doctor, “I think the metal punctured something. It should’ve healed…” He broke off in another fit of coughing.

            The doctor frowned, “I’ll have to open it up to see if there’s any damage. You wouldn’t have made it through the night though if there was. A simple first aid kit isn’t a proper way to deal with something like this.” He looked toward Len, who he could tell was the unspoken leader of the group from the way everyone seemed to look to him for an answer, “You’re lucky he didn’t die sometime during the night.”

            Leonard sneered, “You’re lucky you don’t die where you stand.”

            Lisa wrapped an arm around her brother in comfort while the doctor nervously went back to working on Barry. She could tell that he was worried about Barry, even if he wouldn’t say it outright.

            Barry bit his lip and fought back a shout when the doctor removed his stitches and used a tool to hold the wound open. The doctor looked up from his work in confusion, “You shouldn’t be able to feel that, I put you on a morphine drip.”

            “Didn’t work.” Barry gasped between gritted teeth.

            The doctor adjusted the drip to let the morphine flow faster, “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to do this anyway.” He used the tool to gently-as-possible move the skin away from the wound to look inside.

            Barry groaned at the feeling of someone moving around amongst his muscles and vital organs, instincts screaming at him to get off of the table and flee.

            The doctor pulled back after a while, “Do you have a history of eating disorders Mr. Allen?”

            Barry furrowed his brows, “Eating disorders?”

            The doctor pursed his lips and nodded, “Yes, such as anorexia or bulimia? That would explain why your blood won’t clot and why you passed out like you did. Also, it would explain the damage to your internal organs. Similar damage is caused by forcing oneself to vomit and from not receiving vital nutrients.”

            Leonard’s first thought was that the doctor must be crazy. He’d seen for himself how much that kid could put away. But the more he thought about it, it almost made sense. Barry’s not eating the first few days in Iron Heights, how skinny the kid was even though he ate so much food. The way he didn’t gain pound even though he’d never seen Barry workout. Hell, maybe even his cigarette habit. Len remembered reading somewhere about cigarettes being appetite suppressants and used to lose weight.

            Barry shook his head vehemently, “No way! I’ve always been this skinny. Just ask Lisa, even when we were kids I was like this. I’ve always wanted to gain weight, not lose it!”

            Lisa looked worried though and looked at Barry sympathetically, “You did always have periods where you’d refuse to eat at meals for a week at a time.”

            Barry gaped at her, he couldn’t believe this was happening right now. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear. Of course he hadn’t gotten enough food lately, he was the _Flash._ But he’d thought it would be fine because he hadn’t been using his powers. It must’ve been his body trying to heal him or something.

            The doctor sighed, Barry thought he was surprisingly calm for having a gun to his back, but maybe he was just good at compartmentalizing. “We’ll have to deal with that later. Right now we will need to cauterize the wound to stop the bleeding.” He looked towards Mick and Len, “If you two would please take Mr. Allen by the shoulders and legs to keep him from moving? I don’t think the morphine will help you with this one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you don't like people talking about eating disorders, I didn't mention anything I though could put anyone in a bad mindset, but in future chapters I might. I'll warn you all then, too. I struggle with anorexia myself, so I feel for anyone who does too. But, if it's any consolation, there is some mad relationship development coming up here soon! But as always, leave me a comment letting me know what you think, I love you guys, and you can totally punch me in the face for any feels experienced during this ride.


	19. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Barry gets worse, he realizes who needs to ask for help.

            That was probably one of the worst experiences of Barry’s life. Now, instead of a gaping hole in his side, he had a huge burn. Well, maybe Mick would be happy that they matched now at least. The pain had made Barry go unconscious again. Luckily, his body was too weak to try and faze through the grip Mick and Len had on him subconsciously.

            Len, Mick, Lisa, Hartley, Mark, and the poor doctor all sat around Len’s bed back at the Safe house. Yes, they’d kidnapped the doctor and stolen several thousand dollars-worth of medical equipment. No, they didn’t feel bad. Their teammate was in trouble after all. Lisa had already gotten rid of the nurse’s body before they’d even arrived at the clinic earlier.

            Barry groaned as he came-to. Blinking blearily at the figures gathered around him. “Where ‘m I?” He mumbled.

            “Home.” Lisa assured Barry quietly. “How do you feel?” She took Barry’s hand.

            “Like I got hit by a truck and then it back over me.” Barry smiled slightly, “Hey Len?”

            Leonard moved closer to Barry’s bedside, “Yes Barry?”

            “Can I have those painkillers _now?_ ”

            Leonard smirked, grabbing the bottle off of the nightstand, “You’re already pretty out of it Barry, didn’t the drugs the good doctor gave you help?”

            Barry shrugged awkwardly from his position propped up against a mountain of pillows, “Not really.” He slurred, “Gotta ask ya somethin’ though.”

            “And that would be?” Leonard prompted.

            “Don’t be mad at me ‘kay?” Barry frowned slightly through the fog in his mind, he knew Leonard would be mad at him for this, but he couldn’t remember _why._

            Lisa stroked her thumb over the back of Barry’s hand, “We won’t be mad Bear.”

            “Can you… can you call Caitlin?” Barry mumbled, looking up at the group nervously. “Something’s wrong. I need…” His eyelids fluttered sleepily, “Need Caitlin.” His voice was too quiet for most of the group to hear, but it was loud enough for Len.

            Leonard assumed Barry’s sleepiness was caused by the drugs that he’d been given, “Caitlin? You mean Dr. Snow? But why do you need…” Len’s eyes grew big as realization slowly dawned on him. Holy shit. There was no way Barry was who he thought he was. “Yeah… okay. I’ll call Dr. Snow.”

            Leonard slowly walked away from his slightly confused group of Rogues and pulled out his phone, dialing in the number he’d easily memorized when he’d been doing research of the Flash’s team.

            The call was picked up on the second ring, “Hello? Who’s this?” A woman’s voice answered on the other side.

            “This is Leonard Snart. We have a… mutual friend and I think you can help me out Dr. Snow.”

***

            It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Caitlin and Cisco to arrive at their front door, but it was enough time for Barry’s condition to get worse. In the eleven hours and twenty minutes it took most of team Flash to get from Star Labs to their safe house, Barry had developed a fever so high that they’d had to put him in an ice bath.

            A cauterized wound and a bathtub filled with ice. The thought made Barry laugh quietly to himself while everyone around him rushed to get things as the doctor ordered them. He was sure there was a joke about Captain Cold and Heatwave in there somewhere.

            But that was how Caitlin and Cisco found Barry after Hartley had brought them upstairs, shivering and shaking in his boxers in the bath, traces of dried blood from two nights ago that Leonard hadn’t been able to remove still evident on the white tiled floor.

            “Oh my god, Barry!” Caitlin had gasped, going to her knees beside the bath, either not caring or not realizing that she was sitting beside Mick Rory, who still had a gun on the clinic doctor. She glared up at Len, who leaned against the door frame of the tiny bathroom with his arms crossed over his chest, “What did you do to him?” She accused.

            Leonard raised an eyebrow casually, “I have no idea what you mean Doc. You might want to ask the friendly neighborhood Arrow for that one.”

            The clinic doctor spoke before Caitlin could retort, “I believe an infection has set in in Mr. Allen’s wound here. Even though it was properly cleaned, Mr. Allen’s immune system is so weak that it set in anyways.”

            Cisco frowned, standing behind Caitlin and watching as Barry’s eyes distantly roamed over something on the ceiling above them. He had a delirious smile on his face and was too weak to even keep his head up on his own. It was disturbing, Cisco had never seen Barry like this before.

            “But he’s never gotten sick.” Caitlin responded, glancing nervously at the people around her that – she assumed - didn’t know Barry’s secret, “Uh, can we have a moment alone with him?”

            This got Barry’s attention and his eyes widened, “No. No Lenny… stay.” He slurred.

            Len scowled down at Barry, but nodded after a moment. “Take out the trash Mick.” His eyes flickered over the clinic doctor, “Tell the others that I’ll be down in a minute.”

            Mick nodded and grabbed the doctor roughly by the shoulder, hauling him to his feet, “Time to go Doc.”

            The doctor’s eyes widened and he struggled in vain as Mick hauled him out of the room and down the stairs. Len shut the door behind them and locked it, “Now, let’s fix up the kid so we can all go home.”

            Caitlin eyed Len nervously and didn’t say anything.

            Leonard rolled his eyes and hoisted himself up to sit on the bathroom countertop, “I know he’s the Flash. I can’t believe I didn’t realize sooner though. Why isn’t he healing?”

            Cisco cringed, “That’d probably be the serum I made him for Iron Heights. We’d never used it before, and he was supposed to have the antidote by now so-“

            “What serum?” Leonard interrupted, eyes narrowing.

            Caitlin spoke then, pulling away from Barry for a moment to turn to Len, “To keep any external injuries from healing at anything faster than a normal rate for a human. It must’ve started to damage his overall ability to heal.” She looked back at Barry and ran a hand through his sweaty hair, “I’m so sorry Barry.”

            “And do you have the antidote with you?” Leonard prompted.

            Cisco fumbled with the case he’d brought in with him and pulled out a syringe that had a strange, silvery liquid inside of it. “Right here.”

            Caitlin took it from him and stuck the needle in the crook of Barry’s arm. “I hope this works. I hope his body can heal the damage.”

            It did work, thankfully. Though it was a grueling process to give his body the energy it needed to start to repair all of the damage he’d gone through. Cisco and Caitlin had had to shove a tube down Barry’s throat in order to force feed him. Cisco had had Leonard go downstairs and blend these strange protein bar type things with ‘the highest calories liquid you’ve got in your fridge’ which had been eggnog of all things. Why they had eggnog at this time of year Len wasn’t even going to ask, he figured it was probably Lisa.

            After a few hours in which they’d hauled Barry out of the bathtub, dried him off, and put him back in Leonard’s bed, Barry came to. At some point after his fever broke he’d fallen back into unconsciousness, but he was fully alert when he woke up.

            “Caitlin? Cisco? What are you guys doing here?” He asked, confused to find his old teammates at his bedside.

            “Leonard called us.” Caitlin explained, “You told him to.”

            Barry paled and looked around nervously to find Leonard leaning against the far wall of his room, “I did?”

            “You did.” Leonard responded, voice cold and flat. “Nice to see you awake _Flash._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh it happened! Do you guys hate me yet? You just might after the next chapter. But I won't give anything away. Either way, let me know what you think about this so far or how you'd hide my body after you killed me.


	20. Poisonous Kisses and Deadly Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len thinks things through.

            To say that Len was upset would be a big understatement. No, Len wasn’t ‘upset’ he was pissed off. Hartley had been right, they couldn’t trust Barry. Leonard was just too damn blind to see it because he _liked_ the kid. He was disgusted with himself for not realizing it sooner. They’d shown a superhero their secrets. And now that the kid was done with his little vacation into the criminal world the Rogues would end up back in Iron Heights.

            Len had endangered his family by letting Barry into their home. And just because he’d thought the kid was attractive? But no, it was more than that, as loathe as he was to admit it, even to himself. Leonard had started to _like_ being around Barry. He found the kid’s laughter made his own chest feel lighter, and the way he got along with his sister warmed some part of Len’s heart he didn’t even know he’d had.

            And on the other hand, Len _needed_ the Flash in his life too. He lived for the challenge that the existence of the Flash provided. Without it, heists were boring. The cops were too easy to predict, and didn’t put up with the witty banter that the Flash did. But that didn’t mean that he wanted them to be the same person.

            He felt childish, complaining about something that couldn’t be changed. But he’d just started to consider Barry a part of the Rogue’s Gallery. A part of his little family of thieves. He couldn’t have the Flash _and_ Barry.

            But Leonard knew what he saw every time he looked into Barry’s eyes. It couldn’t be faked, nor could it be hidden. That deep, cold darkness inside of him that’d let him slit a man’s throat and think nothing of it. _That_ wasn’t very superhero-like. That was _his_ Barry entirely, the kid he’d felt so drawn to form the moment they’d met.

            So really, the more Len thought about it, the clearer it became. Barry was a superhero to keep up appearances, just like he’d had as a CSI. Now what would the masses of Central City say about that? Leonard could confidently say that the Flash wasn’t all he’d seemed to be. And oh, this was suddenly getting interesting.

***

            Leonard came to these conclusions in a matter of moments after Barry was safe again. He’d been caught in a blur of worrying about Barry and anger at him before and hadn’t been able to think about this clearly. Now that he had, he took a moment to enjoy the nervous anticipation on Barry’s face.

            Barry had convinced Cisco and Caitlin to leave the room, and now it was just him and Len. Barry couldn’t meet Len’s eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I knew how you’d react.”

            Leonard tilted his head to the side questioningly, “And how would I react, Barry?”

            Barry flinched at Leonard’s cold tone, making Len regret it, “You wouldn’t let me be a part of the Rogues anymore. _You_ wouldn’t want to be around me anymore.”

            Leonard smirked, unseen by Barry who was still looking at the comforter like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He approached the bed with the practiced silence of a life-long thief, “Now, now. I don’t know if I’d say that.” He murmured in Barry’s ear, settling close beside him on the bed.

            Barry jumped at Len’s suddenly proximity, “W-what do you mean?” He stuttered, the feeling of Len’s cool breath on his neck making his brain short-circuit. What was Len doing? Shouldn’t he be upset with Barry for lying to them?

            Len’s smirk widened and he gently ran his thumb across Barry’s exposed collar bone. They hadn’t put a shirt on him earlier in order the keep an eye on his injuries. Barry couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him at Len’s touch. “I know you Barry. Or did you forget? We’re the same, you and I.”

            “Are we?” Barry breathed.

            Len’s gaze became downright predatory, “We are. Running around, pretending to be this mighty hero that always saves the damsel isn’t who you are is it?”

            Barry slowly shook his head, meeting Len’s eyes and allowing him to see the beautiful darkness there, completely unhindered, “No, not really.” He smirked, “Tell me Lenny, who am I then?”

            Leonard pressed his lips against Barry’s roughly, teeth tugging at the other’s lower lip as he pulled away, “You aren’t a hero Barry, you never were. You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

            Barry bared his teeth in a grin, “Are you going to undress me then?”

            “Don’t tempt me.” Leonard purred, hand slowly trailing further down Barry’s chest, “Your… _friends_ are waiting for just outside that door. As much as I’d love to see their faces if I ravaged you here and now, I think it’ll have to wait.”

            Barry shot a glance at the door and snickered, “ _Ravaged_ huh? I think I like the sound of that. Does that mean you won’t kick me out?”

            “Not quite yet.” Len pulled away from Barry and stood up from the bed smoothly, “But I think you’d better talk to your friends before my sister drags poor Cisco off into the unknown. They did drive all this way to take you back home after all.” He shot the closed door one last distasteful sneer, “Like some sort of lost dog.”

            Barry smiled gently at Len, “Don’t think you’ll get rid of me that easily. What are we going to tell everyone else? I don’t think they’ll react so kindly.” The thought of any of the other Rogues kissing him like Len just had flashed through his mind and he cringed, “At least I hope they won’t.”

            Leonard shrugged, hands in his pockets, “Until you’re ready to tell them, we’ll say what that doctor did. You have a problem with eating enough and keeping it down. Sometimes you get weak because of it and your body has trouble healing properly after so many years of damage.”

            “Fifteen years.” Barry offered, eyes averted again.

            “What?”

            “It started fifteen years ago. When my mom was killed. I refused to eat because I thought it was a sign of weakness. I thought I didn’t deserve to eat if I couldn’t save her, or even save my dad.”

            Len blew out a breath of air, “Shit Bear, I didn’t know you actually struggled with that-“

            “Save it Snart,” Barry interrupted, a small smile on his face, “Remorse isn’t a good look for you. Just let our favorite bleeding hearts in so we can work this out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll better hope I catch the writing bug because I haven't written anything past this. But I WILL have another chapter up tomorrow if it kills me. But yes, relationship development. I hope you all are happy because let me just say the next chapter is a kick right in the feels. Even though I haven't written it yet. ANYWAYS, I love you freaks, and please please PLEASE leave me a billion comments telling me what you think!


	21. A Bit Too Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitclin and Cisco are a bit too easily convinced of Barry's innocence. We meet the person who framed Barry?

            Caitlin and Cisco rushed to Barry’s side, apologizing profusely. “We didn’t know that would happen Barry. I swear!” Almost immediately they switched over to berating him, “What are you doing with Cold and his crew! We need the Flash back in Central! Everyone thinks that you’re dead.”

            Barry grimaced, “One thing at a time guys. I’ve been a bit preoccupied as you might’ve noticed.” He rubbed the healed-over puncture wound the needle had left earlier absently, “About the serum, all I can really say is thank you for helping me keep my cover during my stay in the Heights.”

            Cisco nodded and lay a hand on Barry’s shoulder, not noticing the minute way it tensed up at his touch, “Of course man, but what about being the Flash? All these criminals think they’re untouchable now. Especially the metas.”

            Caitlin nodded in agreement, worried eyes staring into Barry’s, “We need you back there Bear.”

            “I can’t just go back.” Barry said quietly, almost to himself.

            “Why not?” Caitlin pressed, eyes darting over to Len, who was leaning against the far wall again watching them disinterestedly, “Are they threatening you? We saw what they did to that doctor and it was awful.” She spoke in a hushed voice.

            Barry couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, “Hardly. But let’s face it, the Barry Allen everyone knew and loved is dead. Everyone in Central thinks I’m a criminal.” Which he was, but they didn’t know they of course, “I have no life left there.”

            Caitlin sighed in frustration, “We don’t _need_ Barry Allen back, we need the Flash. Nobody knows it’s you under that mask, and I’m sorry but they don’t care. Somebody needs to be out there stopping those monsters.”

            _Ah,_ Len thought, hiding a smirk, _there’s that darkness again._

            Barry’s eyes were cold as ice, and the smile he gave was more of a snarl than anything else, “Of course. Well you’ll have to _forgive_ me Cait if I’m a little tired of my ‘duties’. Risking my life for people who so easily put me in that cage has sort of lost its appeal.”

            Cisco and Caitlin looked absolutely shocked, “Where is this coming from Barry?” Cisco demanded, looking extremely worried, “What have they been telling you? Don’t you care if innocent lives are lost because you let criminals go unchecked? Criminals just like these, who killed two innocent people unnecessarily just hours ago?” She gestured vaguely to the house around them.

            They shouldn’t have gone there. Comparing common lowlifes to his new family. Barry knew what this looked like to the rest of ‘Team Flash’, he was acting extremely out of character to them. It probably seemed like he was a completely different person than the one they knew. Which he was.

Barry hadn’t planned on their talk going this way when he’d asked Len to call them in, but he found that the idea of going back to his old life was unbearable. Everything wasn’t going as it ought to be, Len had _accepted_ who Barry was, completely. Nobody had ever done that for him. The euphoria of being accepted, being wanted, without the lies and without the mask.

Barry sighed, “Look. I just need some more time before I can go back to Central. You can understand that, can’t you? It’ll be hard, knowing that my family,” He fought a cringe at those words, because Iris and Joe were _never_ his family, “My coworkers… they all hate me. I just need to lay low a while longer, but I’ll be back.”

Now they looked sympathetic. It was incredible how easy they were to manipulate. Cisco offered a gentle smile, “We’ll find out who framed you Barry. Then everyone will welcome you home with open arms. But in the meantime, try not to let the Rogues Gallery kill anyone or steal anything else? If anyone finds out you were with them, innocent or not, you could be considered an accessory.”

That one was funny. Somehow Barry hadn’t even had to convince Caitlin and Cisco that he was still somehow innocent. They’d convinced themselves for him. It was amazing how people could so easily blind themselves to the truth.

But Barry just returned the smile, “Thank you guys for understanding. Now, I think you should get going. If anyone finds out that you know where us fugitives are holing up, then you’ll be in just as much trouble as me.”

***

That went a bit too well. Caitlin and Cisco were acting a bit too oblivious to Barry’s situation and had given up on convincing him to go home a bit too easily. They had just gotten in the car and driven all the way back to Central without even putting up a fight.

But they did leave. And now Barry was sitting in the living room, Len’s comforter wrapped around his shoulders upon Lisa’s insistence and a whole flock of Rogues sitting around him, watching him with varying degrees of interest and worry.

It had been difficult to explain away Caitlin and Cisco’s visit, but after Barry had explained that they’d taken care of him while he was in his coma and that Caitlin was more or less his official physician they all seemed to accept it. He’d told them that Caitlin knew about his ‘issues with food’ and that she believed him to be innocent and could be trusted not to reveal the Rogues’ location.

Mick assured Barry that if she betrayed that trust he’d be happy to light her on fire. Barry didn’t feel particularly assured.

And now everyone just seemed to be waiting for him to do… _something._ Maybe they expected him to break down crying, or hell, maybe they expected him to try and off himself right there in front of everyone. Barry didn’t really care or notice, still silently reeling from the discovery that he’d been kissed by _Leonard Snart_ just a few hours ago.

It was safe to say that Barry had never really caught feelings for anyone before. There hadn’t ever been anyone around that he could trust enough to catch them for. But it was different with Len. Barry didn’t trust him completely but Len had never really given Barry a reason to mistrust him. Even Lisa had left him and never come back for him, for understandable reasons sure, but still. Len was something else.

Did Barry have feelings for Len? He couldn’t really be sure, he hadn’t even liked being around anyone since his parents. Until the Rogues that is. Yes, he definitely felt comfortable with them, even at home. And what he felt for Len was everything he felt about this new makeshift family and something more.

It was confusing, to say the least.

***

_Long, pale fingers tapped an unsteady beat against the cold brick wall. The air in here was damp, with a chemical undertone that made your lungs burn and your eyes smart. Rats could be heard scurrying across the dark corners of the room, and the steady dripping of rainwater leaking through the ceiling offered a sort of lonely ambience to the scene._

_Twenty, maybe thirty people sat in the center of the room, perfectly still. They all sat with their legs crossed, staring straight ahead of them with their empty, glassy eyes. Like lifeless porcelain dolls._

_They were painfully normal people. Probably working nine-to-five jobs, probably coming home every night to their ‘loving’ families. They were disgusting. They had no idea of just how painful life could be, and he would show them._

_Yes, he’d show them just what it felt like to lose everything dear to them and what it felt like to be alone. Or maybe he’d show their kids. After all, having mommy and daddy’s neck broken right in front of your eyes did wonders for one’s worldview. Maybe breaking their necks was too simple though, maybe he’d make them shoot each other, or slit their own throats. His own parents had preferred a murder-suicide. He’d found them after school when he was seven. And he turned out just fine._

_But Barry Allen was ungrateful. He had gotten a family. And he’d just thrown that away to steal and kill._

_He hated liars. He hated how Barry had lied for his father and had still gotten to keep him. He hated how Barry lied to his new family about how he spent his free time._

_So he’d had Barry, ‘The Almighty Flash’, thrown in prison like he deserved. And no matter how many times Central City’s false hero escaped, he’d always be there to throw him back into his cage._

_He would ruin Barry Allen’s life if it killed him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A slightly longer than average chapter! Also I've been watching Arrow. Which I haven't actually seen before as weird as that may sound. Anyways... I started two days ago and I'm already half way through season two. Please help me. Also pre-Flash Barry is an adorable snuggle bunny of awkward fluffiness and my heart can't take it. Also I really like Slade. That means something awful is gonna happen to him doesn't it? Either way I love him and he'd precious. Just like I love YOU precious babies. Tell me what you think in the comments!! Leave me death threats!!! I don't care just talk to me!!!


	22. Like Like?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Len are bad at feelings.

 

Barry felt like he was being babysat twenty-four-seven. There was always somebody around to make sure he ate all of the food on the plate at every meal, and there was always someone around after he ate to, presumably, keep him from throwing it back up.

Barry could safely say that they were doing their job well, because he didn’t feel like starving himself. He never really had, but then again nobody else needed to know that right now.

“We’re going back to Central.” Len announced a few days after Caitlin and Cisco’s visit. “The cops are giving our capture a lot less man power. Apparently there are more important things to worry about.”

“That’s rude.” Barry pouted from his place on the couch with Lisa, who was absently watching some mindless reality television show, “I killed people! They should wanna kill me for being a dirty cop.”

“You were a CSI Barry.” Lisa reminded helpfully.

            “So what, they aren’t as offended? Well let me tell you, I’m offended they aren’t breaking down our doors to get to me. They certainly acted like they cared when they tried to beat me to death in Iron Heights.” Barry didn’t seem particularly distressed by that memory, “At least let me be a famous fugitive.”

            Leonard rolled his eyes, “You’ll have plenty of opportunity to make a name for yourself in the future.”

***

            Barry expected to feel… different once they arrived back in Central City. He didn’t. It felt almost exactly the same as Starling, he just knew his way around a bit better. Their new safe house was in the warehouse district. Originally it had been a cold storage unit for various meats and frozen goods before they were sent to grocery stores, but had been condemned about ten years back when faulty wiring had caused the warehouse to catch fire. The irony was not lost on the Rogues in the least.

            This home wasn’t a temporary one. Actually, it had served as a sort of base of operations for Mick and Len for the past couple years. Though the place had been fixed up since the original fire, there was evidence of Mick’s presence everywhere. Little scorch marks and ash that collected on furniture, a section of wall charred black. There was evidence of Len too, though it was significantly less obvious. The entire warehouse was kept freezing cold, and even though weapons and random valuables were scattered on every fire-damaged surface, everything was organized and clean.

            Mick had been disappointed that he hadn’t been allowed to burn down their last house. Len was glad he didn’t have to buy another one.

            Barry expected to feel something when he saw Iris from a distance, walking on the sidewalk outside of Jitters. Regret maybe, or disappointment for a life long gone. He didn’t.

            Barry had gone back to sleeping in the same room as Lisa, who insisted on keeping an eye on him. He and Len hadn’t done anything since that first kiss. In fact Barry had noticed Len had a hard time looking at him for any period of time, or being alone in a room with him. Barry suspected Len felt that regret that he was missing.

            He should have seen it coming really. Why would someone like Leonard be interested in someone as useless as Barry? All he was good for was saving people and stealing. Len wasn’t too interested in saving people, and better than him at stealing.

            So Barry kept an easy going, unaffected façade for the Rogues. He ate his meals, smoked his cigarettes while Lisa complained, and helped plan their heists. But inside he could feel himself slipping into that same, subtle depression that had plagued him almost contantly since his mother’s death.

***

            Len couldn’t stop thinking about Barry Allen. To say he liked the kid, that he was ‘interested in him’ was an understatement. Barry was on his mind almost twenty-four-seven. Whether Len was eating a meal, brushing his teeth, or planning some highly illegal, intricate heist that should really be taking all of his attention.

            Barry grinned like an excited child, though it was a rare sight. His eyes would shine and he would look down to the side like he was embarrassed to be so happy about something.

            Barry would run those long, delicate fingers through his hair when he was thinking. He would trap the barbell of his tongue piercing between his teeth, head cocked to the side like some sort of puppy.

            Of course. Len’s thoughts were rarely so innocent.

            Like the way Barry’s back would arch when he stretched, shirt tugging up at the corner to expose a sliver of tantalizing pale skin stretched over defined muscle. Or when Barry dropped his pen one night while they were planning and he bent to retrieve it. Leonard could safely say Barry’s backside was one hundred percent more interesting than any blueprints could ever hope to be.

            When Leonard was alone in his room at night, or in the shower, the memory of that dark, wild look in Barry’s eyes that he’d shown only to Len would keep him company.

            Leonard felt like a teenager again.

            But that was all they could stay. Thoughts.

            Leonard had a strict rule about sleeping with his Rogues. It was bad for business. An office romance that could get you killed. Not to mention Leonard was old enough to be the kid’s father. A decidedly un-sexy thought.

            And when he’d kissed Barry he’d been vulnerable. The kid had just recovered from the brink of death and had thought Leonard had hated him for being the Flash. Maybe he’d only let Leonard kiss him because he’d thought it was the only way Len would let him say. He didn’t want to take advantage of Barry.

            But in the end they were just excuses and Len was too chicken shit to admit that maybe he was just scared. He had a hard time trusting anyone other than Mick and his sister, and putting his heart on the line wasn’t a risk Len felt comfortable taking. All of his past relationships hadn’t really lasted more than a night, and even then he’d use a fake name and a normal, fake past if they asked.

***

            Lisa thought they were stupid. Her two favorite idiots (Mick was up there too just not about this) obviously ‘like-liked’ each other and were pussyfooting around the subject like a pair of teenage girls. Honestly she wouldn’t be surprised if they doodled each other’s names in a fucking diary with hearts around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter that I only just finished writing. I'm a bit behind in this story but I WILL have another chapter up tomorrow. Hopefully. Also everyone who warned me about liking Slade Wilson... yeah... I see why now. But I'm still gushing over pre-Flash Barry so I'll be alright. SO leave me a comment telling me what you think so far. Should Len grow a pair and sweep Barry off his feet? Should Barry save a horse and ride a criminal?


	23. All My Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for suicide, emotional and mental manipulation, and verbal child abuse.

            A little girl, maybe five or six years old, padded down the stairs. It was late, maybe around two in the morning, but something had woken her up. She had gone to get her parents from their room, only to find their bed empty.

            In one hand she clutched her stuffed rabbit Snuffles by its ear, using her free hand to rub sleep from her eyes. She could see the flickering light from the television on in the living room.

            “Mama? Daddy? I can’t sleep…” She told them quietly, rounding the corner and entering the living room.

            Snuffles fell to the floor, forgotten.

            Blood – and something else - dripped down the wall behind the couch. Her daddy’s shotgun lay on the floor in front of his feet. Something was wrong with him… like he was asleep, but not at the same time. His eyes were still open, staring sightlessly, at the television in front of him and his mouth gaped open like a fish. She glanced at the screen, it was just static.

            “…Daddy?” The little girl whispered, heart racing. Where was Mama?

            She fled the room to go and get her mother, something was wrong with Daddy, and Mama could probably fix him. She fixed everything.

            She found her mother in the downstairs bathroom, sitting cross-legged in the empty bathtub. The large knife from the kitchen lay innocently across her lap. Her mother was smiling when the little girl walked in, smiling right at her.

            “Oh Katie dear, I was hoping you’d find me.” Her voice was warm, inviting. It made the little girl – Katie – instantly feel better.

            She glanced back towards the living room, “Something’s wrong with Daddy.” She informed her mom, “He’s acting funny.”

            A new voice sounded behind her, “Your papa is just sleeping dear. It’s exhausting taking care of such a naughty little girl all day.”

            Katie gasped and spun around, looking up at the tall, shadowy figure standing in the hallway just outside the door. Her attention was quickly pulled back to her mother when she spoke though.

            “Your father couldn’t take it anymore Katie. He couldn’t take _you_ anymore. He couldn’t take this family anymore. I’m sure you understand. We never _meant_ to have you.” Her mom’s smile turned into a scowl, “You ruined our relationship. We were going to travel the world.”

            Katie frowned, confusion clouding her head. What did her mom mean? Why wouldn’t they want her?

            Her mom reached for the handle of the knife, knuckles turning white with the strength of her grip, “He took the easy way out! Blowing his brains out all over the wall. He probably ruined the couch. Fucking coward couldn’t even keep from making a mess when he died.”

            Katie was scared now, she didn’t understand what was going on, “…Mama?” She whispered, watching horrified as her mother brought the knife up to her wrist.

            “I never should have kept you Katie. This is all your fault.” Hate filled her mother’s eyes as she gazed upon her child who stood before her, shaking with fear.

            The man behind Katie spoke up again, coming forward to rest his hand upon her shoulder. “It’s alright Susan. Just do it.” His voice was kind, gentle.

            Without another word she slowly dragged the knife down her wrist vertically, opening it up and allowing a sheet of crimson blood to spill out into the bathtub. The knife fell from her hand and her head fell back against the tile wall with a thud. Katie let out a cry and tried to dive forward, tried to do _something_ to save her mom.

            The hand on her shoulder tightened in an iron grip though and kept her from moving. She felt the man kneel behind her and wrap on of his arms around her middle, restraining her. The hand moved from her shoulder and cold fingers caressed the side of her face gently. Tears spilled from Katie’s eyes, still staring into her mother’s empty, lifeless ones.

            “There, there.” The man whispered, breath hot against her ear. Katie flinched away, “Why are you crying little one? You should be happy. You must’ve wanted this. Didn’t you hear them? This is all your doing.”

            Katie’s eyes glazed over slightly and she felt her body go limp. _This is all my fault…_ a voice spoke in her head. It wasn’t her own, but it made a pretty convincing argument and Katie could feel the heavy weight of blame settle onto her shoulders. The tears fell faster now.

            The mysterious man let her go and he stood up, leaving her alone on the floor to stare at her dead mother. He smiled, there was a beauty in this scene. “Katie.” He whispered, knowing she could hear him, “I was never here. This is all your fault. You have only yourself to blame for the way things turned out.”

            _Cute kid._ He thought as he strolled out the back door, _she’ll have a fun time in the system._

***

            Sirens painted the outside of the house blue and red. Two police cars and an ambulance crowded the suburban street and everyone present was filled with a heavy sadness. A double suicide that left a six year old girl an orphan. Nobody had figured out why they’d done it.

            The deceased couple’s daughter Katie sat on the back of the ambulance, a shock blanket draped around her slight shoulders. The only thing they’d been able to get her to say was, “It’s all my fault.”

            The child had no living relatives. Or at least none that had wanted her. There had been an aunt in Florida, but she hadn’t wanted the responsibility of her ‘bitch sister’s kid’. So Katie ended up being picked up from the police station by social services the next afternoon. She didn’t speak to anyone for days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!!!!! But you guys wanted to know more about the crazy guy who framed Barry so I figured I'd make a chapter about it. So actually I'm not sorry, you should know what you signed up for by now. Also I haven't watched any more Arrow because I am a ball of pain and angst. Why do I put myself through this? For the sake of my (Questionable) sanity, please leave me a comment letting me know what you guys think so far, or letting me know what song you'll dance on my grave to.


	24. Nudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MY FIRST KISS WENT A LITTLE LIKE THIS ...well, except it's the second one so...

Mick met Len when they were teenagers in juvie. Mick had already been there for six months when Len had arrived. He was a small, scrappy kid covered in too many fading bruises who would flinch anytime someone so much as brushed against his shoulder. He was an easy target for the other boys.

            Mick wasn’t much of a protector, in fact, he really didn’t care if some pipsqueak had their face pounded in. It wasn’t really his problem. But Mick definitely burned hot, and was almost constantly filled with a type of anger that was best put towards fighting.

            So no, he didn’t ‘save’ Len when he broke up the fight, Len had been curled up on the cement floor, trying to protect anything vital from the constant blows being rained down on him. He was mostly just bored. Mick didn’t even stick around afterwards to see if he was alright.

            But then Len somehow figured out why Mick had been thrown in there, and had stolen a cheap lighter from one of the guards to give to Mick. Mick decided the kid was alright after all.

            Over the next few decades Len and Mick stopped each other from getting themselves killed, and never hesitated to tell the other when they were being stupid. Usually it was Len telling Mick when he was being stupid.

            But this time Len was the one acting like a dumbass. Now, Mick didn’t really know what had gone down between he and Barry back in Starling, but he could tell by the way they’d been acting lately that something was up. Barry always looked a bit like a kicked puppy around Len, shooting glances at the older man when he wasn’t looking. And Len just looked angry when he looked Barry’s way. Nobody else really noticed these looks, but Mick had been around Len long enough to know that something was wrong with his partner.

            So Mick decided to tell Len he was being a dumbass. Like friends do.

            He caught Len’s arm one night as he was leaving the room, tugging him back so Mick could shut the door, leaving them alone, “Alright, what’d you do?” Mick growled, shoving Len backwards into a chair and taking the one across the table from it.

            Len raised an eyebrow and casually leaned back in the chair, hands folded on the table in front of him, “I’m not sure Mick, what _did_ I do?”

            “Don’t act stupid Len. It doesn’t suit you. What’d you do, or think you did, to Barry?”

            Len’s eyebrows drew together, “What makes you think he didn’t do something to me?”

            “Because if he did something to you he’d either be an icicle or a gold statue.” Mick rolled his eyes, “And I can tell by the way you look at him that you’re upset with yourself.”

            “Good point.” Len drawled, eyes flickering over the walls behind Mick’s head, avoiding eye contact, “I kissed him.”

            Mick scowled, “That’s seriously what all this is about? What, the kid not batting for your team or something?”

            Len met Mick’s eyes again and gave him an ‘ _are you serious?’_ look. “Have you seen the kid? He definitely isn’t straight. And you heard he and Lisa talking, he slept with the billionaire-playboy-castaway… No. That isn’t the problem. I kissed him when he was vulnerable. The kid had nearly _died_ for fuck’s sake. And… and he’s a Rogue. You know how I feel about sleeping with one of our own. It _complicates_ things.”

            “So you’re just afraid then.”

            “That’s not what I said at all.”

            Mick leaned forward, resting his palms on the table between them, “Those are bullshit excuses and you know it. Haven’t you seen the way the kid has been looking at you? He probably thinks you hate him.”

            A flicker of confusion flashed through Len’s eyes and he frowned, “I don’t-“

            “Just do everyone a favor and fuck each other already.”

***

Lisa cornered Barry in their room the same night. When he came in he found her sitting, cross-legged, on his bed with a sweet smile on her face. Barry knew he should start praying to any deity that may be listening.

“Hey Bear…” Lisa greeted as he slowly closed the door behind him, “Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

Barry returned her smile nervously and sat down at the end of his bed, “…About what?”

“About my delightfully stupid big brother, dear. You two desperately need to just fuck each other already. Watching you two trade looks across the room is making me feel sick.”

Barry did not expect that. He made a sort of strangled, choking sound, “Wait, what?”

Lisa nodded patiently, “It’s obvious you two want to fuck each other on the dining room table. Just please wait until I’m not in the house.”

***

            Len and Barry ran into each other while fleeing from their respective interventions. Barry, already blushing, turned bright red as he nearly crashed into Len, who was coming up the stairs. Their super-secret warehouse hideout had this weird loft area that they’d turned into several different bedrooms.

            Barry wasn’t actually sure he’d ever _seen_ Leonard blush, but there it was. Slightly pink cheeks and pretty blue eyes that couldn’t seem to meet his.

            “Hey Len I-“

            “Barry, we should-“ They both started talking at the same time and stopped abruptly, Barry biting his lip and looking away awkwardly.

            Len rolled his eyes and took a breath, “We should talk.”

            Barry shook his head and pulled Len further into the hall, “I’ll do you one better.” He smirked, wrapping his arms around Len’s neck and pulling him into a hard kiss.

            Len smirked against Barry’s lips and let his hands settle on his waist. He hadn’t kissed anyone with a tongue piercing before and when they opened their mouths and their tongues met Len could safely say it was a positive experience. Warm stainless steel brushing against the sensitive skin on his lips and inside his mouth.

            Barry moaned and pulled away just long enough to take one of Len’s hands from his waist by the wrist and move it down to cup his ass. “I’m not a nun Leonard.” He smirked, “Put those hands to use.”

            Len’s eyes met Barry’s and there it was again, that unapologetic darkness. _He_ had made it appear. The thought brought a sinister smirk to Leonard’s lips and he pushed Barry back against the wall roughly, free hand roaming up under Barry’s shirt. Once again their lips met, this time with a bit more teeth.

            Someone cleared their throat behind them. Barry and Len broke apart, panting slightly and lips bruised. They pulled apart slightly and turned to see Hartley awkwardly standing there, face red.

            “You’re uh… you’re standing in front of my bedroom door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so our boys finally get to second base. I figured you guys deserved some lovin' after the last chapter. I'm not really used to writing kissing scenes, let alone sex scenes (sorry in advance) so if you have any tips or just want to tell me what you thought of that one then please do. Also, please let me know what you thought about the rest of the chapter in the comments!


	25. Things Get Slightly Shittier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say about meeting your idols... also suicide warning.

            It was a simple bank heist. Go in at night, take out a few guards, freeze the bank vault door and shatter it. It went flawlessly and in the end the Rogues had a couple million dollars cash in duffle bags piled on the table in their warehouse. But it went _too_ smoothly. And it did not go unnoticed.

            “We just stole a small fortune and killed four guards. Shouldn’t the Flash be kicking our asses by now?” Lisa asked, unzipping one of the bags and running her fingers along the stacks of hundred dollar bills.

            Mark smirked, “Didn’t you hear? Everyone’s saying he’s dead.”

            “He’s missing. That’s not the same thing as being dead. Maybe he’s off fighting some big bad villain and doesn’t have time for simple thieves like us?” Hartley added.

            Len, to his credit, didn’t even glance at Barry, “If that’s the case… we’ll just have to be better villains. I’d hate to _bore_ him.”

            Barry was a bit confused, but didn’t say anything. Len wanted to try and lure the Flash out? That wasn’t going to work if the Flash was standing right there in the room with them, on their side, was it?

            Mick scoffed, sitting down in one of the chairs around the table and putting his feet up on it, “Everyone knows you have a thing for the Flash. A little more interest than your ‘professions’ might call for.”

            Barry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he glanced towards Len and then back to Mick, fighting the laughter rising in his chest.

            “…That’s not true.” Len shot a scowl towards Mick.

            A snicker escaped Barry and he covered his mouth with one hand, shoulders shaking, “Is it the leather?”

            “Barry, shut up.” Len hissed.

            Barry leaned into Len, wrapping an arm around the older man’s waist. He looked up through his eyelashes, “It’s alright to admit it you know. He _is_ pretty hot. I mean, have you seen his ass in those pants?”

            Len’s scowl only deepened and he pressed a hand against the back of Barry’s neck, steering him towards the door, “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

            Once they were outside, Len dropped his hand and crossed his arms over his chest, staring expectantly at Barry.

            “What?” Barry asked, eyes wide and innocent, “It’s true; I look very good in a skintight leather suit. Just one of my many assets.”

            Leonard rolled his eyes, “That’s not what I wanted to talk about. Even if it’s true.” He scowled when Barry smirked at that, “That’s what they’ll _think_ I wanted to talk about, but there’s actually something slightly more important than that at hand.”

            Barry waited for Len to continue, but he didn’t, he seemed to be waiting for Barry to continue. “And that would be…” Barry prompted.

            “You’re the Flash.” Len sighed in exasperation.

            “You’re not wrong.”

            “And the Flash has been missing since you were arrested.”

            “Yes.”

            “You don’t think anyone will be suspicious about that?”

            Barry shrugged, leaning against the metal siding of the warehouse, “I doubt anyone will connect me, nerdy little CSI Barry Allen, to the ‘Hero of Central City’.”

            Len gave Barry a slightly disappointed look, “Are you serious? Do you even realize how much evidence there is pointing towards you being the Flash?”

            “Pfft. Like what?”

            Len started listing, counting on his fingers as he went, “You’re the only patient, a lightning-struck coma patient at that, taken in my STAR Labs after the explosion. Just after you woke up the Flash popped up. And where does the Flash always return to? STAR Labs. You eat more food than anyone I’ve ever met and somehow still look like a fitness model even though I’ve never seen you work out,” Barry grinned cockily at that and Len gave a long-suffering sigh, “Not to mention when you were a child you told the police, repeatedly, that a _man inside lightning_ killed your mother. Yes I did hack into the CCPD and read your file. You’re the only person in this city it could logically be.”

            “Then why didn’t _you_ figure it out sooner?”

            Len smiled thinly, “I was a bit preoccupied outrunning and _outsmarting_ the police. I wasn’t really too concerned about the identity of everyone’s favorite _hero._ Who, coincidentally, isn’t much of a hero at all.”

            Barry offered Len a casual shrug, “You know what they say: never meet your heroes.”

***

            A teenage boy opened the front door of his house as quietly as he could manage. It was late, definitely past midnight. He wasn’t supposed to be out this late, but his parents didn’t need to know. Didn’t all teenagers sneak out of the house every once and a while?

            The house was quiet. A still, hollow sort of quiet like you’d expect to find in a crypt. Something wet bumped against his hand and he looked down to see his dog, Daisy, standing by his side. That was odd, she was usually put into her kennel at night, what was she doing out?

            Daisy whined and sat down, looking up at her master with big eyes. “I’m not gonna feed you Dais’. We both need to get to bed, okay?” He tried to step past her to go upstairs but she moved in front of him at the last second and let another, slightly louder whine.

            The boy rolled his eyes and gently nudged her out of the way with his leg, creeping up the stairs as quietly as he could manage. Something dark on the wall caught his eye in the dim light. The boy paused and pulled out his cellphone, turning the flashlight on.

            His blood ran cold and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A single bloody handprint was smeared across the wall at the top of the stairs in front of him. He swallowed down the nerves rising inside of him and walked down the hall towards his parent’s room.

            “Mom? Dad?” He whispered quietly, pushing their door open. Their room was even darker than the hall but he could see the silhouette of a man sitting at the foot of their bed.

            The boy sighed in relief and walked a bit further into the room, “Dad… what’s going-“

            It felt like the air went out of the room.

            The sliver of light the open door provided a better view of the room. And a better view of its occupants. That wasn’t his father.

            Both of his parents were propped up against the headboard, a knife from the kitchen protruding from each of their chests. Their sheets were stained red and their eyes were still open, filled with horror.

            The man at the foot of the bed sat slightly turned away from him, half of his face cast in shadow. He was cleaning something on the edge of the comforter, polishing it. He smiled. “Ah, we were wondering when you’d be home. Did you have a good time at your little party? I was never one for that sort of thing. My father drank you see, so I didn’t touch the stuff myself.”

            Shock was setting in now and the boy felt cold, “W-what’s going on?”

            The man stood up and met his gaze. It was hypnotic. Distantly, the boy realized the thing the man had been cleaning was a thin razor blade from his father’s workshop. He pressed the blade  flat against the boy’s palm. “I’m afraid the suicide of your parents was too much for you to handle. The sight of the two people meant to love and protect you, plunging a blade into each other’s hearts was just too unbearable. You felt like you had to join them.”

            The boy’s eyes were glassy and his gaze was far away. A serene smile tugged at the edges of his lips, “It was?” He whispered.

            The man nodded and ran a hand through the teenager’s hair, petting him. “Yes.” He pulled the boy close, tucked his head beneath his chin. “I know it isn’t quite so traditional, but I’d like you to slit your wrists vertically. Can you do that for me? It won’t be quite so painful that way. You’ll bleed out before you know it.”

            The boy nodded and took a step back from the man’s embrace. The man smiled kindly and gave him one last fond pat on the head, “Good boy. Do it in your room. Teenagers love to kill themselves in their rooms.”

            The boy wandered back down the hall and the man watched him go, absently stroking the dog that had come up to stand by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY for not posting last night! I went and saw Doctor Strange though and it was great. But I wrote a slightly longer-than-usual chapter to make up for it... please don't kill me. I love you guys, you know that right? Let me know what you think?


	26. You Secret Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically useless crack until the last few paragraphs.

            “Fuck. Triple suicide last night. Whole family killed themselves and their dog.” Lisa grimaced, flicking the T.V. off. “They fed their dog _rat poison._ Who does that?”

Barry looked up from the notebook he’d been doodling in, chewing on the end of his pen. “Jesus Christ why are you watching that shit?” He wrinkled his nose in disgust and pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch, feet tucked underneath him.

            “I just wanted to see if they mentioned our heist. Didn’t expect to be thrown into the pits of depression like that.” Lisa got off of the couch, stretching. “We do something.”

Barry closed the notebook and set it aside, “Like what?”           

“We should go shopping or something.”

“Lisa just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I enjoy shopping.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, “As if I care that you don’t ‘enjoy’ it. I still need someone to tell me if I look hot or not. We should at least get coffee or something. I’m _bored._ ”

Barry sighed and stood up, “Sure whatever let’s go.”

It was _impressive_ how literally nobody recognized Barry as they strolled through Central City. Maybe they just didn’t expect to see a wanted fugitive in the middle of a shopping center, so they didn’t. Barry, ever the faithful friend, dutifully followed Lisa around, carrying her bags for her.

Twice Barry had been mistaken as Lisa’s boyfriend. Especially when they were in the jewelry store and Lisa was buying thousands of dollars-worth of gold accessories. The lady behind the counter had told Lisa that she was ‘very lucky to have such a wealthy husband.’ It was hard to tell which one of them cringed harder. Neither corrected her though.

When they walked past Iris and Eddie, Barry was at a loss for words. Neither had seen them, but they were so _close._ Iris had been chatting away to Eddie, who just looked like he was trying to keep up with her.

Lisa noticed when Barry sped up slightly, head down. “What’s wrong Bear?” She asked him, tugging on his arm to slow him down.

Barry shrugged, “We may have just walked past my foster sister and her cop boyfriend. That would be an awkward family reunion.”

“Is it time to go do you think?”

“Probably.”

***

The warehouse was on fire when they got back. Slightly.

Well, sort of. If the black plume of smoke rising into the sky above them was any indication. They pushed open the door cautiously and paused, taking the sight before them.

Mick was a couple of feet away from the flames, laughing madly. Hartley was wearing an apron and panicking, searching for a fire extinguisher. Len was on the other side of the room leaning against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head tiredly. Mark came into the warehouse behind them and sighed, waving his hand casually and creating a raincloud above the fire, effectively smothering it.

It turned out Hartley had been trying to make a piece of toast. It hadn’t gone well.

Mark handed something to Barry as they watched Hartley try and clean up the mess. “This was taped to the door. Has your name on it.”

It was an envelope. One of those thick yellow ones that people used to ship smaller items. Barry turned it over in his hands and sure enough, his name was written on the outside in thick black letters.

Barry ripped it open, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “Hey guys? Maybe you should take a look at this.”

He pulled out the thick leather dog collar and the stuffed rabbit that had been crammed inside the envelope, setting them on the dining room table. The tag on the collar said ‘Daisy’.

Len came up to stand beside Barry, picking up the stuffed rabbit and looking over it, “Any idea why someone would send you these? Are they supposed to mean something to you?”

Barry shrugged, “I’ve never seen them before in my life. But this might help.” He held up the folded piece of notebook paper that had fluttered onto the table from inside the package.

_Dearest Barry Allen,_

_How many lives is yours worth? Five people and a dog have died already since you escaped your little cage. Surely you are worth five more? I know you aren’t a hero, but can you really have the suicides of two whole families on your fragile conscience? They were suicides by the way, I’ve never killed anyone. Unlike you. Once I talked to them, told them the sort of person you were, they simply couldn’t stay on this earth any longer._

_So I’ll make you a deal. I won’t tell anyone else what you did if you give yourself to me. I can be very persuasive. It’d be a shame if your family was to tragically commit suicide. And I don’t mean the West family dear._

_Meet me at the address below tomorrow evening. Try and be a real hero for once in your life._

_With all of my love and desire,_

_Your secret admirer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy FUCK this is short isn't it? Well, at least I got something out today. Be grateful darlings. I've spent all day studying for my AccuPlacer test and it's been dreadfully time-consuming and boring. So please leave me a comment letting me know what's on your mind. They always make the studying I have to do less mind numbing.


	27. An Eye for an Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say identity reveal? Just who is Barry's mysterious admirer? Warning for mentions of suicide, murder, and homophobic slurs.

Lisa dropped the note on the table after taking it from Barry and reading it, “What the fuck? Who does this shit?”

“You aren’t actually going to go are you?” Hartley grimaced, “This guy sounds totally rape-y and serial-killer-y.”

“Actually he’s killed five people – that we know of – and follows a pattern – families – so he actually _is_ a serial killer.” Barry corrected. He looked down at the objects he’d been sent. They reminded him of a cat bringing dead birds to its owner. They were trophies. Reminders of what had been done.

But who could it even be? The man in yellow? Unlikely, this wasn’t really his style. There were plenty of people Barry had made enemies of over the years, really any one of them could be his ‘admirer’. The term alone sent a cold shiver down his spine.

“It’s not your fault he killed people Barry. You don’t need to do this.” Len argued.

He looked up at the Rogues who had gathered at the table around him, “Don’t you think I should? I mean, he killed a _kid._ And a dog. I really like dogs and killing kids is just wrong, even if they are annoying little shits. Plus, he threatened you guys… nobody threatens my family.”

***

The address was for the rooftop of some fancy hotel in downtown Central City. It was completely deserted when Barry got there. He had come alone, as per the instructions, not wanting to risk any injury to his Rogues. He hadn’t told any of them where he’d been going before he left either, wanting to avoid their attempts to go with him.

From the rooftop you could see out over all of Central City. The sun had just set and twilight was slowly seeping the light and warmth form the earth when he arrived. The sky was purple, the first stars just making their appearance.

A man stood near the edge of the roof, looking down at the city which was just starting to come to life, lights flickering on in windows like a sea of fireflies. “Barry. I knew you’d come. I’m just _delighted_ to _see_ you again.”

Barry cautiously stepped forward, moving closer to the man whose back was still turned to him. “I’m not certain I can say the same. Have we met?”

“You mean you don’t recognize me? I’m hurt.” The man turned around to face Barry, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Barry’s blood ran cold. There was no way. “ _Spencer_?”

The man – Spencer – clapped his hands together gleefully, “You _do_ remember! I was hoping you would.”

“But- Why do you want to kill me? I never did anything to you. You’re the one who got me kicked out and beat me up!” Barry’s head was spinning. Why the hell would Spencer want _revenge_ on Barry?

Spencer growled, a nasty scowl contorting his handsome face, “Everything about you is _wrong_ Barry Allen. You’re an ungrateful little brat. You had a perfectly loving family and then your daddy killed your mom. Then you had the nerve to defend that sonofabitch. As if that wasn’t enough you managed to ruin every chance you had at having a loving family after that. _Then_ you got away with breaking the law and paraded around with the cops solving your own crimes. You had to pay. Justice was due.”

“ _You_ framed me and got me thrown in Iron Heights?” Barry gaped at the other man.

Spencer laughed and shook his head, “Well _you_ weren’t going to do it. But _then_ you just had to break out and go on a fucking vacation with your fag boyfriend. I knew I had to take more drastic measures. Not to mention it was a little fun to watch people end their own lives just because I told them to.”

This was a lot of information to take in at once, “You’re a meta human aren’t you?”

“You mean like you? Yes, you always were good at running away from your problems.” Spencer leaned a bit closer to Barry, like he was going to share some big secret, “I w _as_ affected by the particle accelerator explosion. I was pretty good at convincing people before, but now people just seem to find a t _ruth_ to my words like never before.”

“So those people really did kill themselves.”

Spencer giggled childishly and nodded emphatically, “Oh yes. And if I wanted to, I could make you jump off this roof right now! But that’d be too easy.”

Barry took a step back from the edge nervously, making Spencer laugh again, “Why haven’t you?”

“Oh that’s simple: I want to make you pay for your crimes before I kill you. I want to see you suffer.”

***

There was a gap in Barry’s memory. One moment he’d been on the rooftop, the next he was walking back to the warehouse in the dark and it was an hour later. There was a handprint-shaped bruise on each of Barry’s wrists that were slowly fading away. They must’ve been bad before if they were only just healing.

Barry was _tired_ too, he was only a few blocks away from the warehouse but he was almost too exhausted to make it there. Once he got through the door he had to sink to the floor, vision blurry and black spots forming.

Someone rushed to his side and he felt hands on his shoulders. Barry could faintly recall flinching away from the touch and hearing something like  a whimper escape his lips.

“Barry? Barry it’s okay we won’t hurt you. What happened? We were so worried about you, you just left all of a sudden!” That was Lisa talking to him, Barry realized.

He tiredly lifted his head to see Len and Lisa crouched at his side, “I went to see the guy who sent that letter…” He mumbled.

“We figured.” Len replied, lips pursed, “What happened?”

“I don’t… I don’t really remember.” Barry frowned, looking off into the distance inquisitively, “It was Spencer… form my first home. He was the killer. Then Iw as walking home and… I’m tired…” Barry slurred, eyes blinking slowly.

Everything went dark again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's a terrible person? I am! What happened to Barry that he can't remember? Tell me all of the theories that you've thought up. Were you surprised by the reveal? Bet you didn't think you'd be seeing that little shitstain again!


	28. Dinglehopper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you don't get the Little Mermaid reference get out.

            Barry’s lack of memory was… concerning to say the least. There was just a huge empty gap in it. It was terrifying to think that Barry, in some sort of trance-like state, walked almost all the way back to the warehouse without realizing it. Not to mention whatever had happened on that rooftop that Spencer had wanted to erase from his memory.

            “Alright _who’s_ Spencer?” Lisa asked as they all sat down around their table where they usually made plans for heists.

            “The first home I ended up in after my dad’s trial, Spencer was the other foster kid there. He beat me up and got me kicked out of the house for fighting.” Barry frowned, absently rubbing at the bruises on his arms that had yet to fade completely. He was sore in other places too, but even the thought of that was so alarming and horrifying that Barry refused to dwell on it.

            “Why is some kid from over a decade ago stalking you now of all times?” Mark asked.

            Barry sighed and looked over to Len, who sat beside him, “I don’t think he ever _stopped_ stalking me since I left the home. He was the one who framed me and got me thrown in prison.”

            Mick growled, ‘I’ll kill that fucking creep. You almost died in there kid.”

            Barry smirked, oddly touched that Mick would kill somebody just because he asked, “I didn’t almost die. The guards didn’t like me very much, that’s all.”

            “Understatement of the year.” Len drawled, a dark expression on his face, “Did he say what his problem was with you?”

            “He doesn’t like that I’ve gotten away with all of the shit I’ve done. He thinks I need to pay or some bullshit.” Barry shook his head, “Not sure what killing families has to do with that but I don’t think he cares.”

            “Do you think he wants to kill you?” Hartley asked.

            Barry shrugged, “He had the chance last night but here I am. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. He didn’t demand anything of me. He just seemed to want to have a dramatic moment where he showed me who was behind all of the shit he pulled.”

            There was a loud pounding sound at the door. Someone knocking on the side of the metal building with their fist. Everyone froze and looked at each other silently for a moment, then simultaneously reached for their weapons.

            Len, hand wrapped around the grip of his cold gun, stood up and slowly approached the door. With one last questioning look back at the rest of the Rogues, he slowly pulled it open.

            There was a box with the word fragile printed on the side of it sitting innocently on the doorstep. Len ducked his head outside and looked around, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. He carried the package inside and set it on the table.

            “Big surprise,” Len sighed, “It’s for you Barry.”

            Barry smiled uneasily at Len and opened the box. What was inside made a sharp laugh escape his lips.

            “Oh there’s no fucking way…” Barry whispered, removing the plastic bag from the box with shaking hands.

            Inside the bag, which had the words ‘EVIDENCE: Do Not Remove From The Central City Police Department’ printed on the outside in red, was a fork. The very same fork he’d accidentally blinded a kid with.

            “Why did your stalker send you a _fork_?” Hartley asked, head coked to the side in confusion. It was a slightly anticlimactic present after all.

            Barry glanced over at Lisa, biting his lip, “I always wondered why I wasn’t punished worse for what I did… I guess he must’ve stolen it from the evidence locker. OH joy, there’s another note.” He pulled out the slip of paper that had been at the bottom of the box. It was much shorter than the previous one.

            _I always did appreciate your more artistic endeavors darling. I’d love to see more of your work someday._

            “What’s he talking about?” Lisa asked quietly, reading over Barry’s shoulder.

            Barry laughed humorlessly and set the piece of paper down, “I stabbed a kid in the eye with this fork after you left the home… I was a bit upset.”

            Hartley’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, “You don’t think that was maybe a bit of an overreaction?”

            Barry shrugged, “The little shit tried to steal from me. Kids’ve gotta learn sometime that that shit isn’t polite. He was _fine._ He had two eyes, one still works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have a shorter than fuck chapter. Better than no chapter right? But seriously a virgin thirteen year old boy watching his first porno lasts longer than this shit. Leave a comment or something.


	29. A Man of Many Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get it onnnn

            Barry had been sleeping in Len’s bed lately. They hadn’t really done anything yet, being busy with the heist and then slightly worried about the fact that someone was stalking Barry and possibly (Probably) watching him for the majority of the day. It kind of killed the mood.

            But Barry’d be damned if he let that stop him. Obviously Spencer had been watching him for quite a while now, and Barry wasn’t really a shy person anyways. Years of changing in front of other kids in homes and sleeping with strangers had made sure of that. Also his brief stint in prison.

            Both he and Len were stressed out, Len probably more so if they were being honest. And, if they were still being honest, Barry had kind of wanted to sleep with Len ever since they first met. And he was talking about their first fight, not even when they met face to face in Iron Heights.

            And they were ‘together’ now, or at least Barry thought so. What else did you call making out and sharing a bed? It wasn’t as if Len didn’t want to sleep with Barry. Barry was pretty sure the way they grinded their hips together and touched each other was a pretty obvious indicator of that.

            Can you tell Barry was a bit nervous? Though he’d deny it, he hadn’t ever really slept with someone he’d actually cared for. One night stands were more his style. And being raped. Maybe he just had ‘that kind of face’? People just couldn’t help but want to molest him? Anyways…

            They were both climbing into bed that night. Barry never really bothered sleeping in anything more than his boxers, but Len always wore pajamas. Barry had seen the scars, he knew Len was self-conscious about them.

            Barry, sat on his side of the bed, watched Len as he approached the bed, “Are you ever gonna let me _show_ you just how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me?”

            Len smirked and laughed a little bit, as if he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation now of all times. “And just what would that entail?” He challenged.

            Barry hummed as if he was deep and thought and stretched out over the covers of the bed like a cat, laying himself horizontally across the bed towards Len. “Well I’m not sure… why don’t you come here and we can find out?”

            Barry was a sight to be seen. Len let his eyes slowly rake over Barry’s body, from his strong shoulders and down his back, the lean muscles beneath his skin rippling slightly as he stretched. His narrow waist with the waistband of his boxers riding low, clinging to the curve of Barry’s ass. He was beautiful. Len met Barry’s eyes and saw the mischievous glint in them and the teasing smile on his lips.

            “See something you like?” Barry asked innocently, rolling onto his back languidly.

            Len cocked his head to the side and stepped closer, “Several things.” He purred.

            The grin Barry responded with was almost predatory in nature, all sharp teeth, dark eyes, and feral excitement. “Then why don’t you come and get it?”

“Maybe I just like looking at you like this…” Len teased, still standing there, watching Barry.

Barry pouted and, faster than he should be able to move but not quite using his super speed, he was up, kneeling on the bed and grabbing the front of Leonard’s shirt, dragging him into a hot kiss.

Barry growled into Len’s mouth, biting at his lips, tongue sliding against his. Len smirked against Barry’s lips and slid his hands down along the warm exposed skin of Barry’s back to grab his ass.

Goosebumps rose wherever Len touched him and Barry moaned, pulling back from the kiss, “Mmm, your hands are cold, I like it.”

A surprised huff of laughter escaped Len, “Usually people complain about that.”

Barry shook his head, “You’re Captain _Cold_ what did they expect? Plus, it feels good. I run hot because my metabolism is so fast.”

Len pressed as kiss against Barry’s lips to shut him up, “You’re rambling Bear.”

Barry flushed, pink lightly dusting his cheekbones, “Sorry…” He murmured, kissing Len again. He fell back on the bed, dragging Len down on top of him.

They made out like teenagers for another few minutes before Barry got impatient, hips grinding upwards into Len’s. He was pleased to find that Len was just as hard as he was. Barry, this time actually using his speed, flipped them over so that he was on top of Len, straddling his hips and unbuttoning the other man’s pajama shirt.

“It’s not fair that I’m more naked than you.” Barry said by way of explanation, unbuttoning the last button on Leonard’s shirt so that it hung open, exposing the other man’s chest to him.

Len wasn’t going to admit it, but actually experiencing Barry’s super speed when they w _eren’t_ fighting was thrilling. It was such a casual display of raw power. Something a casual observer wouldn’t typically associate with Barry Allen.

Len grimaced though, slightly uncomfortable with the idea of all of his scars being on display. The ones from old jobs he was fine with, it was just a part of his lifestyle, but the old, faded ones form his father gave him pause. They were a sign of weakness. A sign that he couldn’t defend himself against that son of a bitch.

“You’re much nicer to look at though.” He smirked, trying to disguise his discomfort.

Barry could tell that Len was uncomfortable though and pressed a kiss against one particularly bad scar, feeling Len’s muscles tense beneath his lips. “I beg to differ. All of this? It’s just a sign that you’re a survivor.” He sat back and pointed to one of the scars crisscrossing his own belly, “See this one? Broken beer bottle. And this one? The metal bit at the end of a belt. I have hundreds of scars, big and small. They just tell a story. And so do yours. You survived. We survived.”

Len smiled warmly up at Barry, he was incredible. Len hadn’t ever thought of his own scars that way but he could see Barry’s point now. When he looked at Barry, he saw strength in the network of scars covering his body, not weakness. Maybe that’s what Barry saw when he looked at Len.

He said as much. “You’re amazing you know that?”

Barry smirked cockily and wiggled his hips, making Len bite back a groan, “I know.” He preened. “Now, as much as you were trying to pretend you didn’t before, I know you were interested in my fabled dick-sucking talents. I didn’t just get this tongue piercing for the aesthetics you know.”

Len actually blushed at that and before he could say anything, Barry had scooted down the bed to sit between Len’s legs and had his hands on the waistband of Len’s pajama bottoms. In a flash (pun intended) they, along with his boxers, were pushed down his thighs and Len’s cock was in Barry’s hand, moving slowly up and down.

Len couldn’t help the surprised moan that escaped his lips and blushed darker, making Barry smirk. “I’ve never blown someone who knew about my powers.” He leaned forward and slowly licked the tip of Len’s cock and _oh that’s why it’s better with the piercing_ , “Did you know I can make my throat vibrate? Actually, when I get e _xcited_ all of me just sort of starts vibrating.”

It felt even better than you’d think. And Len didn’t last nearly as he usually did, but it felt too amazing to even be embarrassed about. But it was as if Barry didn’t even _have_ a gag reflex and he definitely knew what he was doing. It wasn’t as if Barry seemed to care either, he just hummed happily and swallowed, looking for all the world like a cat that got the cream (the analogy was so perfect that Len almost started laughing).

Barry gave a pleased smile and didn’t fight Len when he switched their positions, scooting back against the headboard and letting Len drag his boxers down his hips, wiggling helpfully to get them off faster. Len may not have been a meta human with super speed and didn’t have a piece of metal through his tongue, but he anything he did, he made sure to be good at. Whether that was robbing ATMs or sucking dick.

Barry tried to focus on the heat of Len’s mouth around him and the downright _sinful_ things his tongue was doing, but he couldn’t stop the flood of forgotten images that rushed to the forefront of his mind. Half-remembered feelings and thoughts that had rushed through his head just the night before.

Unfamiliar hands undressing him and pressing him against the wall of the small structure that housed the stairwell off of the roof, wrists held in an iron grip, being stretched painfully and insulted all the while. Sticky hot seed filling his ass and the sounds of his rapist moaning in his ear, breath hot. The feeling of being trapped in his own mind while his body betrayed him and did whatever it was told. _Remember this next time your faggot boyfriend touches you. Remember that I had you first._ Spencer had told him.

Barry gasped, realizing he wasn’t half as aroused as before and that Len had stopped to ask Barry if he was alright, increasingly concerned with the way Barry zoned out and didn’t seem to hear him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Len sounded worried, Barry realized distantly.

Barry shook his head, “No, not at all. I’m fine! Keep going.”

 _I had you first…_ The voice echoed in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porn and pain. Basically my Tinder bio if I had one... I'm not sure if that even makes any sense. But here's a slightly longer chapter anyways. Uh, let me know what you think? Y'all wanted the slow burn to actually become a fire and let me tell you... Barry and Len are flaming...


	30. Stranger Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer's creep factor multiplies several times.

In the end, Barry had managed to let Len distract him enough that he actually enjoyed himself. More than a little bit. In fact, due to his short refractory period, he had _several_ distractions.

Len was certainly good at what he did. And now it seemed like _finally_ that last bit of stigma that had been floating around their relationship could vanish. Like somehow they were more official now that they’d had their mouths on each other’s dicks. And if waking up to Barry’s lips wrapped around him like they had been that morning was their new ‘thing’ then Len wasn’t going to complain. To be honest, Barry wasn’t going to complain either, it was fun making those sounds come out of the normally cold and stoic Leonard Snart.

Somehow, it was as if Lisa _knew_ that they’d done _something_ last night. She kept shooting them suspicious looks all day as they made plans for how to deal with Spencer. Barry and Len successfully ignored her, but somehow, even though he’d had nothing to do with it, Hartley kept blushing each time Lisa would give a look to either of them or sneak an innuendo into their conversations. It was like Hartley was a virginal preteen girl who had just learned what sex was and couldn’t look at her crush now because of it. In other words, Hartley was acting normally. For Hartley.

So far their plans as for what to do about Spencer had come to be jack shit. They didn’t know enough about him to really have a plan of action. They didn’t know what his motives really were, or what his endgame was. Hell, they didn’t even know how Spencer had managed to keep track of Barry so well over the years. Their first plan of action was to gather more information. Though they weren’t sure how they’d go about doing that exactly.

Len hated not being able to form a real plan. Mick just wanted to torch the guy before he could even speak and get it over with. Barry couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he’d been raped. _Again._

But more than anything it made Barry angry. He’d kill Spencer himself as soon as he had the chance. Someone like him didn’t deserve to be alive. Though, some people would argue the Barry himself didn’t deserve to be alive either. Yes, he’d killed people, but Barry had never and would never rape somebody.

There was a difference between killing somebody who posed a threat to you and killing somebody for the pleasure of it. Spencer was sadistic and cruel as far as Barry could tell, and they were nothing alike. Yet somehow Spencer saw Barry as the bad guy in all of this.

***

Spencer had a book opened and resting on one knee, one leg crossed over the other. It was a beautiful day in Central City and it was the perfect day to spend at the park. There was a playground for children on one side of the park and the rest was a large grassy field dotted with trees and crisscrossed with trails for people to walk their dogs or jog on.

Today he was going to find the perfect bait.

Apparently, suspicious men sitting on a bench alone and watching children play was such a cliché that nobody seemed to care. They probably thought one of his own children was there to play. He hated children. They were… sticky. And loud. Not to mention stupid.

But Barry, even if he wasn’t a _real_ hero, couldn’t resist saving a child in need. He’d have to make the perfect selection. Some kid who looked extra innocent. Like that one.

She had her hair in _pigtails_ for god’s sake. And she was wearing a pink dress. Who let their kid play at the park in a dress?

Spencer stood and walked towards the child, who had just come down the slide. The excited smile that had been on her face before faded when Spencer crouched beside her.

He put on his best charming smile, “Hey there. What’s your name?”

The little girl took a step back, frowning slightly, “Mikala… I’m not supposed to talk to strangers…”

Spencer shook his head and smiled wider, “My name’s Spencer. See? Now we aren’t strangers, are we Mikala?” He let the influence seep into his voice.

Mikala smiled shyly, “No, I guess not.”

“Exactly. Now Mikala, where’s your mom?” He looked where Mikala was pointing to a woman a few feet away on an iPad. She was the sort of person who always looked like they’d smelled something bad and had gotten too much Botox from a bad doctor. He turned back to Mikala, “Stay here a moment alright? I’ll be right back.”

Mikala nodded and stayed perfectly still while he stood and approached the child’s mother. She didn’t look up when he stopped in front of her. He cleared his throat expectantly.

The woman looked up as if it was the biggest chore in the world, “Can I help you?” She asked in a disgustingly fake cheerful voice.

Spencer smiled broadly and glanced back at Mikala, who still stood dutifully in the exact position he left her in, “Is that your daughter there ma’am? I have to say, she’ll grow up to be a real beauty. Unlike her mother.”

Ah, it was incredible how much outrage and disgust one face could portray. Especially one that already looked permanently disgusted, “Get away from her you pervert!” The woman rose to her feet angrily, “You have no business going anywhere near my daughter!”

            “So she is your daughter then.” Spencer confirmed, “Listen to me you old bitch. See these?” He removed an orange prescription bottle of pills from his pocket and shook them to get her attention, “I want you to forget about the kid, go straight home, and swallow at least ten of these. That isn’t too difficult now is it?”

            The woman’s eyes glazed over and she took the bottle, stuffing it into her purse, “Yes. I’ll do that right now.”

            Spencer smiled warmly and spoke his next words a bit louder for the benefit of anyone nearby, “I’ll take Mikala home alright? We can stop for ice cream.”

            Apparently the woman’s maternal instincts were practically nonexistent because she just blankly strolled off with a wave to acknowledge that she heard him.

            He watched her go to her car and then went back to retrieve the kid, “How does some ice cream sound kiddo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really sorta hate Spencer. Even though he is technically my brain child. He's that unwanted middle child that just sort of fucks up everything and rebels for no reason in really bad ways. Like that one kid who skips sneaking weed into the house and goes straight to cocaine or meth. Shitty analogy over. Leave a comment babes...


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